Would you rather live in peace as Mr. Nobody, die ripe, old and smellin' slightly of urine? Or go down for all times in a glaze of glory, smellin' near like posies, 'thout seein' your thirtieth?

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!

Seedy bars, betrayal, a beguiling woman... Sounds like something out of a pulpy noir thriller.
"Pepe was used to listening to his customers' complaints. But now it was he who needed to get something off his chest. It was the same old story - an unfaithful wife, in a city where everything was uncertain..."

Democracy is non-negotiable.

Fear is what keeps us all in our places, and the fear of the flesh, the ruin of the flesh is the greatest of them all.

I am sickened, I am ruined, but I will build such machines to contain this plague and heal us all.

What, smoking after sex not Zen enough for you? We gotta rewrite "The Art of War", too?

He's fucked in the head, the world's fucked in the head - and you're fucked in the head 'cause MY fucked up head is inside it.
Guess if you want to save the world, that's the first step - get fucked in the head.

You must be careful what you wish for lest your wish be granted. For there are consequences.

Oo, I love this town! Love it like you might love a mother who popped you out on the steps of an orphanage and now stops you to ask if you got a smoke for her!

As the Americans learned so painfully in Earth's final century, free flow of information is the only safeguard against tyranny. The once-chained people whose leaders at last lose their grip on information flow will soon burst with freedom and vitality, but the free nation gradually constricting its grip on public discourse has begun its rapid slide into despotism. Beware of he who would deny you access to information, for in his heart he dreams himself your master.

I've been to hell and back, and back to hell…and back.

It’s dangerous to go alone! Take this.

Sweet Johnson: You're dressed like a hooker!
Kendl: You two would know what a hooker looks like.
Carl Johnson: You say that like it's a bad thing.

People don't forget. Nothing gets forgiven.

When you see Claptrap next, please let him know that none of my laboratory equipment has any interest in him romantically.