You know Heywood. It has strong roots - ever watered by some blood.

Man dies the way he was born: soft, weak and helpless. Death, the one certainty in this universe of chaos, can be both a tragic end and a release from suffering, It can come as an unexpected twist, or as a beautiful, crowning counterpart to a live well lived. The curse we face as humanity, the only living beings in constant awareness of death, is our inordinate focus on the fact. How much happier is the life of the gazelle that escapes the cheetah's clutches, thinking that it evaded death once and for all, than the poor soul living out his days knowing each step inches him closer to the void!

Give yourself time. Ideas'll come. Life'll shake you, roll you, maybe embrace you. The music'll find you.

Johnny: Sit and rest. Don't need you flatlinin' while we got a job to do.
V: Blah blah blah, fuck Arasaka, blah blah, smash Mikoshi.

Well, that way you'd kill two souls. Is that what you want?