It’s dangerous to go alone! Take this.

Bullets don't distinguish between tough and weak.

The wind whistling through boarded-up windows. Tumbleweeds scratching across dry, sandy tracks. That's how towns die. Not with a bang, but with whispers and whimpers.

I do not see the need for so many cameras.
Tom's presence everywhere is slightly oppressive. I understand the need for transparency, but why is he in the toilets?

V: Nice ride. Lots of space. Practical.
Panam: Say no more. Please.
V: How the hell'd you land in this mess?
Panam: I liked the color. The air freshener and booster seat came extra.
V: You know I don't mean the car.

When you live among humans, it's essential to find a shared, fundamental point of understanding. "Truth" and "Good" are values proven to cause division, whereas beauty is universal.

You can't shake no hands when ye fist be clenched.

Thanks for the thank, he never get me anything.

GTA, pretty much the same as the last game.

V: Doesn't it bother you?
Ozob: What?
V: The grenade. You know, the one on your face?
Ozob: Eh, you get used to it. I just gotta be carefull not to pull the pin when I wanna pick my nose.

Corpo or not, without chrome we all look like the same idiotic, bullet-riddled sacks of meat.

Trevor: You know what truckers do?
Lamar: Cut up women and get other dudes to jack 'em off?

Assisting a human to the best of my abilities only affords a 25 percent survival rate. That means there's a 75 percent chance that despite my efforts, the human I'm assisting will die from something beyond my control. Therefore it's better to hasten the human's death and put them out of their likely chance of misery than to deplete my limited time.

Be alone with my thoughts? Near on unachievable these days.

Grove Street. Home. At least it used to be until I fucked everything up.