I love this time of year. The dickheads start popping up.

Mirror: A mirror hangs above a bent and broken sink. In a fierce discharge of masculine energy, someone has ripped half of the faucet off.

Conceptualization: Was this not the same elan that founds empires and lays waste to cities, virile, uncaring towards the little things?

In a thousand years, when I’ve all but forgotten how to love yet again, you’ll flit back into my heart, and I’ll weep, wondering what happened to my mad love.

If ther ever was such a thing as an ugly kid, then this is it. He's almost exquisite in his ugliness. Like a gremlin.

Player: No machine should have free will.
Nick Valentine: Why? You jealous you had to turn yours in?

I don't mean to judge a book by its cover, but that man is all cover and no pages.

You were never burdened with intelligence, but your load seems to be especially light these days.

Player: Looks like drinking hasn't turned out too well for me.
Electrochemistry: MAYBE YOU HAVEN'T TURNED OUT WELL FOR YOUR DRINKING?!

I will cease to exist as I am now... Only to be reborn as a 'God' to rule over every soul.

It's only that one spot you need armoured too - the one the bullet hits.

Ok. We need to lighten the mood.

Sword, give me strength.

Teach them to fear us.

Oh crap.

Jackpot!