What are you doing?

Twinkle, twinkle, little bat. Watch me kill your favorite cat.

I am lightning!

It’s dangerous to go alone! Take this.

I...DIE...SO THAT...DEMOCRACY... MAY...LIVE.

BETTER DEAD THAN RED!

COMMUNISM IS A LIE!

A hero need not speak. When he is gone, the world will speak for him.

The genius of the hole: no matter how long you spend climbing out, you can still fall back down in an instant.

I knew this was a bad idea, but, in the absence of any good ideas, I continued forward.

Death is inevitable. Our fear of it makes us play safe, blocks out emotion. It's a losing game. Without passion you are already dead.

Hard to see big picture behind pile of corpses.

We all make choices in life, but in the end our choices make us.

If history is to change, let it change. If the world is to be destroyed, so be it. If my fate is to die, I must simply laugh.

The truth, Walker, is that you're here because you wanted to feel like something you're not: A hero.

The United States Military does not condone the killing of civilians.

You are still a good person.

Can you even remember why you came here?

Cognitive dissonance is an uncomfortable feeling caused by holding two conflicting ideas simultaneously.

Do you feel like a hero now?

This is all your fault

Einstein would turn over in his grave. Not only does God play dice, the dice are loaded.

Technological advance is an inherently iterative process. One does
not simply take sand from the beach and produce a Dataprobe. We
use crude tools to fashion better tools, and then our better tools to
fashion more precise tools, and so on. Each minor refinement is a
step in the process, and all of the steps must be taken.

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 sit in my cubicle, here on the motherworld. When I die, they will put my body in a box, and dispose of it in the cold ground. And in all the million ages to come, I will never breathe, or laugh, or twitch again. So won't you run and play with me here among the teeming mass of humanity? The universe has spared us this moment.