Assessment, Assembly, Action.
Whatever your task, you do three things. Start by assessing what you already have and what you'll face, the problem. Then you plan with those variables in mind. Take what you have, get what you need, assemble things, people. Finally, you take action. Simple.

Your body can be chrome... but the heart never changes. It wants what it wants.

You can't know Night City well, ever. It's always changin', always surprisin'. Part of its charm.

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.

Some people are only nice because they're afraid of getting hurt. Or 'cause their religion tells 'em to be.

Right... what the hell kind of a name is Soap, eh?

Thanks for the thank, he never get me anything.

I spill my drink!

Guess even pneumatic arms can't lift morale in a toxic workplace.

Sushi in Night City...? Sounds like suicide. And somehow disrespectful.

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.

The wider the smile, the bigger the lies.

You ever hear the saying "No good deed goes unpunished"? You hold your hand out to someone, you get bitten. You help a poor soul in need, you get fleeced for all you're worth. Save someone's life? Fill in the blank.

A tech corporation acting unethically? Sounds out of character, but let's investigate anyway.

I'll give you the bad news first: One of your operatives has been kidnapped. Also, there's no good news.

There it is. Time to do your "destroying-other-people's-property" thing.

Player: You're telling me that a gambling addict turned down free money? It doesn't sum up.
Bagley: You're right. A gambling addict making a bad life choice? Ooh, the mystery! You had better talk to the friend if you want to crack this one.

So he tried to take on a criminal organization with his bare hands, and got himself in trouble?
My, who could have seen that coming.

You lived! But you will die someday. Best to make peace with that now.

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

The boys have prepared everything and found me a lamb. Blood will course through the fiberoptics, swirling and blending with the digital, opening the gates of the abyss. Death within arm's reach, the metallic taste of his scythe on my tongue, I will tug at the tangled cables of Fate. A hard reset, a blue screen, a brain reformatted... I'm ready. Luck be with me.

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

Didn't go through hell and back just to stand in front of a door.

Sometimes two people find themselves at the wrong place at the right time.

Just when we thought Macroware was done putting out unfinished games, we get this piping hot plate of spaghetti code. Frankly, I don't even know where to start. From the "story mode" which feels like it was cobbled together from the half-baked ideas of six writers working in different time zones, to the non-intuitive tutorials, to the ridiculous lag that had me up making a fresh cup of coffee between each punch, and finally to the head-scratching localization foul-ups. (Honestly, the dialogues make no sense in any language. What the hell were they originally written in? Swiss?)