No more improvisation for me, I’m done with this. From now on, I’m your parrot—just tell me what to say and I’ll say exactly that.

Perilous quests and civilian casualties go together like chocolate and peanut butter. I can’t stay mad at you for that.

Prepare yourself and your company, [PLAYER]. Our war is about to begin.

I’m sure that there were sound strategic reasons for House Davion to want St. Loris, but it sure felt personal to me.

It acted with purpose when it killed those men, and the only surviving witness tells me that it grew fat on their screams.

So your process involves bribery and a time-share condominium.

They aren’t coming. Those Marteau bastards have marooned us here—in Hell.

I remember the first time I saw it—the delicate dance of blood and sky.

All I want to do is go home, hug my cat, and forget that tonight ever happened.

This place took everything from me. And it all started with you.

Oh, man! That’s it, that’s the show! I forgot how bad the dub job was!

The security guys are right. There’s something horribly wrong with that Noodle Extruder.

That’s what gives us our edge, Bob. Throw enough money at us and we’ll go wherever you want.

[Off in the distance, an alien silhouette beckons to you. It’s her—the tall, slender thing from your dreams.]

Wait a second. You can sing?

[Beneath its leathery skin, the thing’s bones begin to shift, straining against the ligaments and tendons that bind them.]

...Come to think of it, most of her plans involved kicking things. There’s something a little sad about that.