Hi, you've reached Rhys Strongfork, CEO and wartime general of Atlas corporation. Quick question: who the hell is this and how did you get on my secure line?!

You know, I gotta come up with a title for you -- a rank, maybe. Somethin' to differentiate you from the other Slabs. How about... Super-Badass? Or, no, wait... Lord of Asskickery? I dunno. Somethin'll come to me.

Man, I haven't been to Sanctuary since Roland kicked my ass out a few years back. It's lookin' nice. From where we're standin', you can see the spot where I ripped that snitch in half. Looks like they did a pretty good job cleanin' up the blood.

Of all my Slabs, I gotta say, you're the least insane. Wish I coulda formed an army to fight Jack that didn't consist of lunatics and idiots, but hey. You play the cards you're dealt. Most of my cards just happen to have blood on 'em.

Can't think of anything I want dead right now. I'm sure I'll think of somethin', though.

UWULR HUWURR UWAARRRLARLRRLWAAA!

Opening up a finely aged cask of whoop-ass.

I have no interests in cooked flesh. The chef’s life is not for me.

I am neither man nor woman, but both deserve more respect than you do.

Let’s see if my knife fits in your skull.

Some days, you are the Hunt; some days, you are the hunted.

I have no heart to give to Death. Perhaps, I'll give her the hearts of others. Yes, one-thousand should do it.

I guess I just wanted to show you that there's two sides to every victory. Those who live to revel in it, and those who died making it happen.

If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop diggin'.

Men are born, and then they're formed.

My cause is to keep this town from turning into a living hell for the folks who live here.

People don't forget. Nothing gets forgiven.

I just know that there are two theories when arguing with women. And neither one works.

Some trees flourish, others die. Some cattle grow strong, others are taken by wolves. Some men are born rich enough and dumb enough to enjoy their lives. Ain't nothing fair. You know that.

We all need friends, old timer. We die alone, but we live among men.

Some like taking friends on adventures. M'aiq thinks being alone is better. Less arguing about splitting treasure.

Moira: It's like... Did you ever try to put a broken piece of glass together? Even if the peices fit, you can't make it whole again the way it was. But if you're clever, you can still use the pieces to make other useful things. Mabye something wonderful, like a mosaic. Well, the world broke like glass, and everyone's trying to put it back together like it was, but it'll never come together the same way.
Player: I don't know. Human nature doesn't change like that.
Moira: Maybe, I've certainly heard people say that. But isn't it also human nature to try to do better than we always have?

If your attack is going too well, you're walking into an ambush.

According to the most extreme form of this view, the only way by which one could be sure that a machine thinks, is to be the machine and to feel oneself thinking. One could then describe these feelings to the world, but of course no one would be justified in taking any notice. Likewise according to this view, the only way to know that a man thinks is to be that particular man.

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?