Meme: Quotes

[rebelseekspizza]

So, 1) I am still in a meme-y mood after yesterday but a different meme-y mood, and 2) we literally haven't done this meme since 2013. Which is sad, because I love sharing my own canon almost as much as I love seeing context/canon stuff from characters I love whose canons I've regrettably never touched. Or not touched lately. SO.

Here's how this works: tag in (under the appropriate journal) with canon quotes from your characters. No (or little) context, just the quotes -- individually if you want, or several in one comment.

People can tag in to those threads and either guess the context/situation, or ask you what it's about, or just comment on the quotes. This way we can all have a little amusement, dork about our canon a little, and maybe get in a little canon pimping on the side.

As always, don't forget to keep checking in and see what new stuff's gone up!

Comments

[rebelseekspizza]

DmC does many things ridiculously, but it's got the brotherly bonding down pat.

Vergil: The way he keeps us docile is, ah... a little more insidious.
Dante: What is it?
Vergil: It's in your hand. Planet Earth's most popular soft drink, Virility. The demons have spiked it.
Dante: *veeeeeery slowly leans over and spittakes into a trash can*
Vergil: Hehe.

Vergil: We make quite the team.
Dante: I'm stronger.
Vergil: I'm smarter.
Dante: I'm better looking!
Vergil: Mundus is behind the vault door. Let's not keep him waiting. ... and I've got a bigger dick.

Dante: Where'd you learn to do that?
Vergil: What?
Dante: That computer stuff.
Vergil: Hacking? Taught myself as a kid, guess it gave me a sense of control.
Dante: Control. We never had that did we?
Vergil: No. I always felt that something was amiss, hidden from me.
Dante: So did I. It's like a burning feeling inside.
Vergil: Exactly, but I knew that if you peeled back the layers of bullshit, the truth would eventually out. Guess I channeled that energy into hacking. And you? How do you find release?
Dante: Killing demons and getting laid. ...but that computer stuff sounds good too!

[rebelseekspizza]

Mundus, a 200 feet tall monster: Two Nephilim?! Two Sons of Sparda?!
Vergil: You ready for this?
Dante: We can kill him now?
Mundus: [muffled, in the background] ...sons of Sparda!
Vergil: The Hell Gate is shut.
Mundus: ... You will die!
Vergil: Never! [back to Dante] Any ideas?
Dante: You see that eye of his?
Mundus: [muffled evil ranting in the background]
Vergil: Yes!
Dante: His demon child had something like that! We start there.
Mundus: [more muffled ranting] ... master ...
Vergil: We'll have to get it open!
Mundus: ... I! AM! MUNDUS!
Dante: [exasperated] You're an asshole!
Mundus: RAAAAURGGGGGH!
Vergil: [sighs] Keep him busy.

Dante: It's the beginning of the end for the demons. Mankind will be free.
Vergil: Yes... free from the demons. The path is clear for us to rule.
Dante: ... What did you just say?
Vergil: ...The path is clear for us to rule?

It's that MAYBE IF I REPEAT MYSELF tone Vergil has that does it, really.

[buzzkillcaptain.livejournal.com]

"Hey, we're not gonna get jealous and turn on each other like the clones in the movies, are we?"

"It's better this way for Paper Jam Dipper."

"Yeah, right! I just think Wendy's cool, okay? It's not like I lie awake at night thinking about her!"

"Disco girl...coming through...that girl is you..."

"I haven't just read them; I've lived them! I've been waiting for so long to meet you, I-I don't know what to say I have so many question I... Oooooohhh I think I'm gonna throw up. Hmmpf! No-no, false alarm. Hmmpf! Just gotta ride it out!"

"The rules are simple. First, you roll a 38-sided die to determine the level of each player's statistical analysis poweroid. These orbs relate directly to the amount of quadrants that your team has dominion over, which is inverse to the anti-quadrants in your quadrant satchel."

[wandering-stone.livejournal.com]

Annie: Aren't you uncomfortable?
Jones: No.
Annie: Is it because you are a robot?
Jones: I am not a robot.

Jones: The court doesn't even track her movements, as surveillance causes her to be on edge.
Annie: How does the court track people?
Jones: Generally? Through their food.
Annie: Oh.

"I can mimic the facial movements for a smile but I tend to avoid it, as it often leaves the onlooker somewhat unnerved."

"Hmm. Suddenly I am wearing a party hat. This is likely to have been placed by someone who can teleport with unerring accuracy. Perhaps with the aid of someone who can distort probability. Their relationship seems to be coming along well."

[suitably_heroic]

Anzanti Zhug: I am Anzanti Zhug, leader of Zhugs, very powerful, very skilled hunters. It would be very smart of you to tell me where the criminal Jedi has gone. And do speak very quick, my patience is very low.
Atton: Anybody here catch that? All I understood was 'very'.
Bao-Dur: I think he wanted us to give up the General to his poorly-trained collection of bounty hunters.
Atton: Ah. Well, that would explain it. Which one do you want?
Bao-Dur: I'll take the stupid one who decided to threaten us rather than shoot us when he had the chance.

Atton: Just so you Jedi know, the whole "cryptic routine" isn't mysterious, it's just irritating. If you really *can* see the future, you shoul be at the pazaak table.
Exile: But to know the future, one must know yourself.
Atton: What was that, some kind of joke? That's what I'm talking about. "Jedi talk". You two should start your own little Jedi Academy.
Exile: But to teach, one must be willing to learn.
Atton: All right, all right! Cut it out, I get it, I get it! The last Jedi in the galaxy, I get the comedian who runs around in her underwear.

"Well, now that we just killed a planet, maybe one of you can tell me what's going on! Because between assassin droids, a Sith Lord that looks like he sleeps with vibroblades, and being target practice for a Republic warship, I was better off in my cell!"

[suitably_heroic]

"Then there was some big explosion, I was sittin' here for a long time... then you showed up in your underwear and things got a lot better."

Atton: Let me shoot him in the back. No one has to know.
Brianna: Atton, restrain yourself. Besides, a blaster would be unnecessary when a nerve strike to his neck would incapacitate him painfully without inflicting any lasting harm.
Atton: Point taken.

Atton: Explain something to me.
Kreia: I do not have the years required – nor the desire to indulge you.
Atton: If she served in the war... well, Jedi are supposed to be tough. Capable.
Kreia: Yes, and what are they without the Force? Take the greatest Jedi Knight, strip away the Force, and what remains? They rely on it, depend on it, more than they know. Watch as one tries to hold a blaster, as they try to hold a lightsaber, and you will see nothing more than a woman – or a man. A child.

[talentforlying]

LJ is yelling at me about character lenghts, so you're just going to get my absolute favorites... for now.



John: I'm the one who steps from the shadows, all trenchcoat and cigarette and arrogance, ready to deal with the madness. Oh, I've got it all sewn up. I can save you. If it takes the last drop of your blood, I'll drive your demons away. I'll kick them in the bollocks and spit on them when they're down and then I'll be gone back into darkness, leaving only a nod and a wink and a wisecrack. I walk my path alone... who would walk with me?

Clarice: Talk to me, John.
John: Dead girlfriends, Clarice.
Clarice: Ah. Your favourite drug.
John: And magic.
Clarice: Your favourite fuck.

John: My talent's for lying. For sticking the knife in when people least expect it. Then walking away with a smile and a wave before they even realize they're bleeding.

John Constantine: He doesn't believe in magic. And he's right. Magic doesn't exist, for him. You have to choose it, you see. That's what we're offering you: the choice.

Timothy Hunter: Are you sure you're one of the good guys?
John Constantine: There aren't any good guys, and there aren't any bad guys. There's just us. People. Doing our best to get by. Can you drive?
Timothy Hunter: I'm only twelve, John.
John Constantine: I suppose it will have to be me, then.

John Constantine: The boy's mine. And in thirty seconds, me, and him, and the witch, are going to walk out of here. You know who I am. Or you ought to. You know my reputation. Now... does anyone here really want to start something?

John Constantine: You've been introduced to, insulted, or threatened by some of the most powerful practitioners of the art in existence. What have you learned?
Timothy Hunter: I dunno, that all of them except Zatanna are about as well-balanced as upturned eggs.
John Constantine: Yeah — that's a good beginning.

John: It's the awful, lonely secret of the dead-boy's heart-- and you must keep it to your grave. But the very worst thing is -- once you know it -- you're a bogeyman too.

John Constantine: Just what the world's been waiting for. The charge of the Trenchcoat Brigade.

John: My name's John Constantine, and here I stay: haunted by London. And London, haunted by me.

[talentforlying]

John: So. Magic. What's it all about, then? I wonder what you were after when you go into the game. It's usually something. Something specific that you think is worth taking risks for. Money. Sex. Revenge. Power. Enlightenment. Thinner thighs in thirty days. It's a long time ago for most of you, I know. Maybe you don't remember. Fuck, maybe you don't even want to. But I'll tell you something for free. At rock bottom, it's always about the same thing. It's always about entropy. The Universe is winding down. Things fall apart. The moving finger writes, and what it writes is "Tough shit." You can't get something for nothing. Like God said to Adam when he kicked him out of the garden, "Now you've got to work for a living." If there ever was a free lunch, it ended right there. So we push and we pull and we sweat. Putting in a shit-load of energy to get a little back. Third Law of Thermodynamics, right? The one we all love to hate. Cheers. But with magic, it's different. Or it could be. Case in point -- this fine old plonk. How did it get here? Grapes had to ripen. Peasants had to toil. Some plucky kid in Marks and Sparks had to zip a long the aisles with his pricing gun. Lots of effort. Lots of energy. And once it's gone, it's gone. When things fall apart -- they do not put themselves back together again. But if you ask a demon to bring you some wine -- or jiffy some up with a spell -- well, you're cheating the taxman, aren't you? It comes for free. No grapes. No peasants. No entropy. So here we all are, then. Chasing the earthly paradise. Trying to sneak back into Eden through the back door, because work is for mug punters. You stupid arrogant little shits. We're not playing fire, -- here we're playing with napalm. There's a war on and we're whoring with the enemy for pennies. Innocent people die when we fuck up. And we fuck up all the time. Oh, don't get me wrong. Eden's a nice place. I was there a few months back. Left a piece of myself buried in the ground there, for reasons I won't go into. So I can tell you, God hates our kind most especially. The cheats. The hellblazers. The collaborators. Look -- this is what Heaven has to say to the likes of us.

John: We are not children of celestial fuckin' light, walkin' arm-in-arm into the Age of Aquarius. We are wankers who wreck the planet an' piss on each other, 'til half the world's starvin' an' the other half's busy findin' new ways to keep from noticin' it. That's the fuckin' limit've our potential, believe me.

Angie: I'm into [magic] meself. I can probably help you.
John: Okay. So who are the big players locally? If I want my wife's toy boy to start shitting razorblades, who do I go to?
Angie: Oh, for fuck's sake!
John: What about zombies? Say I want to shag one, or rent a few to work someone over. Or I'm desperate to score a pint or so of baby blood. Where's the best place to buy?
Angie: Is that the lot, or is there more after the adverts?
John: I'm just making a point, love. Magic's a nasty game. Go and play with your dad's chainsaw instead.

John: All my best mates. Just like old times, eh? Because the old times were never less than fucking terrifying. I don't know if they're an honor guard or a jury. Probably both. So I walk down the avenue they've left between them, past Frank, Ben, Judith. Looking them all in the eye, one at a time. Because you can't smack a roomful of people in the face with their own mortality and then hide under the bedclothes when Death comes calling on you.

John: It's coming on to rain, with perfect timing. The first drops running down my face so that from a distance you could mistake them for tears. Don't you believe it, mate. Don't you fucking believe it.

John: My name's John Constantine, and I think we could do each other a favor. Mind if I smoke?

[omgnochecksyet]

Eric: I have never been more disheartened with male hygiene in my entire 18 years of life. And the things they did to that pecan pie were felonious.

[cracksmostly]

. . . I. Do I want to know what happened with the pecan pie.

[goforthe_optics]

This is me, trying really hard not to quote like everything from the Citadel DLC, and ME3 in general, and it's tempting but I'm trying not to spoil spin_kick_snap!

Tali, to Shepard: What is it about you that makes people think we enjoy being in harm's way?
(I feel like this encapsulates SO MUCH of the entire trilogy. SO MUCH.)

Tali: Do you ever regret leaving Citadel Security to pursue Saren, Garrus?
Garrus: Fighting a rogue Spectre with countless lives at stake and no regulations to get in the way? I'd say that beats C-Sec.
Tali: I'm pleased that the imminent destruction of all organic life has improved your career opportunities.

Shepard: If you want to help [clan] Urdnot you need to get back there, but it would take a real badass to make it back while injured.
Urdnot Scout: I can do it!
Shepard: You? I said a badass, not some scout whining like a quarian with a tummyache.
Tali: I'm standing right here!

Garrus: Do you ever miss those talks we had on the elevators [on the Citadel in ME1]?
Tali: No.
Garrus: Come on. Remember how we'd always ask you about life on the flotilla? It was an opportunity to share!
Tali: This conversation is over.
Garrus: Tell me again about your immune system!
Tali: I have a shotgun.

Tali: Shepard! Wanna drink? I'm toasting Miranda. I think.
Shepard: How are you getting drunk?
Tali: Very carefully. Turian brandy, triple-filtered, then introduced into the suit through an emergency induction port.
Shepard: . . . that's a straw, Tali.
Tali: Emergency. Induction. Port. It's actually getting a little harder to get it into the slot . . . I think that means it's working.

Wrex: Still remember that fast-reloading trick I taught you?
Tali: You know, I've taken care of myself for the last few years.
Wrex: I know. I'm old and I worry, even though my favorite quarian's all grown up and killing Reapers.
Tali: You're like the crazy headbutting uncle I never had.

Tali: I practically poisoned myself with cheese trying to change the subject!


I'LL PROBABLY ADD MORE LATER, I'M SURE. But I should, like, probably do work too.

[omgnochecksyet]

Shitty: Know what I like about you, Bitty? You're a dude from the South and you're not a bigoted dickfaced cockhole! Good for you!"
Eric: Why thank you... Shitty. (In his vlog: I still don't know his first name.)

Eric: And this is Bad Bob's son Jack pooping in the Stanley Cup in 1991 with the Pittsburgh Penguins. Jack's the only person in the NHL's history to have done that more than once. The pooping, that is.

Ransom: Nicknames were invented in 1944 when drunk Canadian scientists invented a revolutionary formula for name fission.

Eric: And now, I would like to offer y'all sweaters or pie! But not both, 'cause I'm hazing you!! Mwahaha!
Shitty: The literal actual fuck, Bits, I said no sweaters.

[omgnochecksyet]

Holster: Finally, during freshman year, Rans and I unearthed a trove of Zimmermann/Parson fanfiction. Summary: It's not that Jack wasn't in to relationships, it's just that Jack wasn't a relationships kind of guy. 3000 words, Coffee Shop AU, unfinished since 2010.

Dexter: So those are boobs.
Chowder: But what if they're something else? Like faceoff circles?

[cracksmostly]

The problem here is that Dragon Age II has so much delightful party banter that I could probably spend all day picking out different variations of conversations and not even get to any dialogue from cutscenes OOPS OH WELL.

Aveline: Humans don't have clans, Merrill.
Merrill: Exactly! You came so far together, and you didn't even have a Keeper to make you get along.
Aveline: So your Keeper tells you to stop kicking each other, or she'll turn the aravel around?
Merrill: Sometimes she also warns us to stop pulling hair.

Merrill: The Qunari must like it here to stay so long.
Aveline: From what I've seen, the Qunari don't like anything.
Merrill: That can't be true! They must like some things. Sunshine? Butterflies? Rainbows?
Aveline: If I spot a Qunari admiring butterflies, Merrill, you'll be the first person I tell.

Anders: You don't pay attention to templars, Qunari, or politics, but you notice kittens?
Merrill: Templars, Qunari, and politics don't meow and attack your feet when you're buying food.

Merrill: They're [the Qunari] so big and grim. What do you suppose would happen if I tickled one of them?

Merrill: If you could do anything, just anything at all, what would you do?
Bethany: That's easy. Be normal. No magic, just -- normal.
Merrill: Really? You wouldn't fly across Thedas or eat a cake the size of Kirkwall? Keep a baby griffon for a pet?
Bethany: Well, now that you say it, the griffon might not be so bad.
Merrill: I'd name mine Feathers.

Bethany: We'll find them, if they're still here to be found.
Merrill: Don't worry! If we keep going, eventually we'll get somewhere. Probably an airing cupboard. I seem to wind up in those a lot.

Merrill: How do you suppose the Qunari scratch their heads with those horns in the way?
Isabela: Why do you think I would know?
Merrill: Because you know lots of things! I wonder if they rub their heads against tree trunks like halla do?
Isabela: I'd pay a sovereign to see that.
Merrill: No wonder they seem so cranky all the time.

Merrill: Your armor is very shiny, Sebastian. Doesn't that make you an easier target?
Sebastian: The light of the Maker is my armor, Merrill. I am not afraid.
Merrill: Maybe you could ask him to make his Light less shiny? Then you wouldn't need as much armor.

Merrill: It's a good thing you're here, Sebastian.
Sebastian: Oh? Why do you say that?
Merrill: You're so shiny! Much better than a torch!
Sebastian: I did swear an oath to carry the Light of the Maker wherever I go. Grand Cleric Elthina will be so proud.

Merrill: I'm so nervous. What if I do something wrong and embarrass us? I always do something wrong.
Sebastian: You'll be fine, Merrill.
Merrill: But I don't know anything about human manners! What if I use the wrong fork? And then accidentally stab someone with it? That sounds like the sort of thing that would happen to me.
Sebastian: Just act annoyed that they bled on your dress. Nobody will even notice.

Merrill: Does your bow have a name? Varric's bow has a name.
Sebastian: I'm afraid I can't compete with our dear dwarf's . . . relationship to his weapon.
Merrill: You could call it Philomela!
Sebastian: Why would I do that?
Merrill: Because it reminds me of a woman in the alienage. Skinny, pointed, and always throwing things at people.

[cracksmostly]

Varric: So I hear you've been visiting the viscount's garden, Daisy.
Merrill: They're enormous! And they're always empty. Why don't more people go to see them?
Varric: Probably because they're private and surrounded by guards.
Merrill: I thought all those men looked a bit cross . . .

Anders: Were you trying to look at my grimoire the other day?
Merrill: Me? What? No! When?
Anders: At my clinic. While I was talking to Hawke. I saw you looking in one of my books. You know, those are private.
Merrill: I know, that's why I -- oh, fine, I admit it. I was hoping you'd have, um. Dirty spells.
Anders: Dirty spells?
Merrill: You know! To, um . . . make things more exciting. Oh, I shouldn't have said anything.
Isabela: That's my girl.
Anders: I don't think I want to know.

Merrill: Oh, caves! I like caves.
Hawke: No you don't, Merrill.
Merrill: Oh, right. Creepy giant spiders and things live in caves. What is it I'm thinking of, then, ruins?

Merrill: You know, Fenris, you should get a pet.
Fenris: I'm afraid to ask what brought this on.
Merrill: On the way here I saw a noblewoman in a gown made completely out of fur. I thought she was a bear at first!
Fenris: So I should keep an Orlesian noblewoman as a pet.
Merrill: Orlesians would make terrible pets. They'd complain all the time. No, I was thinking of a griffon.
Fenris: Somehow I should have expected that.

[omgnochecksyet]

and with a couple twitter/text quotes i am off to work and done spamming I'M SORRY

@omgcheckplease ... should I go to a NYE party with a bunch of football players? :/ (I'm consulting my teammates)
@omgcheckplease Re: NYE with Georgia football players. Rans & Holster social media stalked most of them & concluded: "looks like a bunch of wrenches, bro."
@omgcheckplease Rans: like, a full toolkit. Holster: They're running a Home Depot over there.

@omgcheckplease Most of my relatives' response to my playing hockey--"ain't that a lot of hitting?" -_-
@omgcheckplease I'm WELL aware

= SMH Group Text =
Knight: jack do u know ur in cosmo
Knight: not a pic but a mention
Knight: specif. of ur ass
Knight: single-assedly brining hockey to the mainstrm
Oluransi: lol y r u readin cosmo
Knight: don't put me in a box rans

[rebelseekspizza]

BUT I LIKE YOUR SPAMMING

[good_for_six]

Isabela: "Sister Nightingale," indeed. I remember it didn't take much to make you sing.
Leliana: *laughs awkwardly*
Merrill: I like singing! Were you in a choir together?

Fenris: Interesting story I heard about you, Isabela...
Isabela: Yes, yes, all right. I just want it known I never asked for the goat. And the fire was accidental.
Fenris: I... that wasn't the story.

Isabela: I keep telling you Kitten, get a pair of proper boots. Like mine!
Merrill: I can't. I just can't. Your boots go on forever. I'd get so lost in them. I've dropped marbles in. They take an eternity to reach the bottom.
Isabela: That's the reason I've been finding marbles in my boots?
Merrill: Um. No. I'm just rambling. Look, a rock!

Sebastian: It was nice to see you in the Chantry, listening to Sister Etheline's testimony. I was surprised, but very glad.
Isabela: I was surprised as well, and not quite as glad.
Sebastian: Oh? Sister Etheline's words always inspire me. Was it not so for you?
Isabela: You didn't notice I was bound, gagged, and had a contusion on my forehead?
Sebastian: What?
Isabela: Just... don't ask for the "bad girl special" at the Blooming Rose.

Merrill: If you weren't a pirate, what do you think you would've been?
Isabela: I haven't given it much thought. Maybe a poet?
Merrill: You would've made a great griffon-wrangler.
Isabela: I'm sorry... what?
Merrill: You're so quick and clever. You'd be perfect. And you'd get a baby griffon for me, wouldn't you?
Isabela: Kitten, if griffons existed, and if I was a... griffon-wrangler and not a pirate, yes. I would find you a baby griffon.
Merrill: Thanks. I've always wanted a baby griffon called Feathers.

[smilestopscars]

"I can't imagine how anything this morning could get less humane. It's so bright in here. Why do you people need so much light? It's freakish and unnatural."
"That's the sun, Ezra. I'm told it comes up every morning."
"Well, it's trying to kill me. Someone do something."

[cracksmostly]

Same, Ezra, Saaaaaaaaaame.

[smilestopscars]

"Mom and Dad are fighting! Part of me wants you to kiss and make up, but most of me is hoping for two Christmases."

[smilestopscars]

"Did you know my mom is making Cade a sweater?"
"Your mom makes things?"
"Making, stealing, whatever."

[smilestopscars]

"I am a perfect gentleman. It's not my fault that no one can resist me. I mean, have you seen these abs? Who can blame them?"

[seveninchmotto]

"If it's this short on me, how short must it be on you?"
"On me it's a shirt."

[dauntless-four.livejournal.com]

Tris: Peter would probably throw a party if I stopped breathing.

"Well," [Four] says, "I would only go if there was cake."

[dauntless-four.livejournal.com]

“Four flips the gun in this hand, presses the barrel to Peter's forehead, and clicks a bullet into place. Peter freezes with his lips parted, the yawn dead in his mouth. "Wake. Up," Four snaps. "You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it.”

[whenshewasnice]

SQUISH SQUISH SQUISHY SQUISH

[seveninchmotto]

"As if we'd have sex in a cave surrounded by hordes of demons. This is reality, not your fevered imagination."

[professor-lyman.livejournal.com]

Josh: Victory is mine, victory is mine. Great day in the morning, people, victory is mine.
Donna: Morning, Josh.
Josh: I drink from the keg of glory, Donna. Bring me the finest muffins and bagels in all the land.
Donna: It's going to be an unbearable day.

Josh: I'm on hold.
[paces]
Josh: I'm on hold.
[slams phone against desk]
Josh: I'm in some kind of hellish hold world of holding.

Josh: Here's one.
Mandy: One what?
Josh: A book which, if I was stuck with it on a desert island, I still wouldn't read it. "The Adventures of James Capen Adams, Mountaineer and Grizzly Bear Hunter of California." I believe I would eat this book before I read it.

Leo: Andrew Jackson in the main foyer of the White House had a two-ton block of cheese.
Josh: And a Wheat Thin the size of Lake Tahoe.

[doesnotkneel]

Mary Read: We're Assassins and we follow a creed, aye. But it does not command us to act or submit - only to be wise.
Edward Kenway: Oh, do tell. I'd love to hear it.
Mary: Nothing is true. Everything is permitted. This is the world's only certainty.
Edward: Everything is permitted? I like the sound of that. Thinking what I like and acting how I please.
Mary: You parrot the words, but you do not understand them.

Torres: What is your true name, rogue?
Edward: It's, ah...Captain Pissoff!

Vane: I'll gut you, Jack Rackham! I'll open you up, I'll tear out your organs, and string a bloody lute with 'em!
Edward: Stop your god damned howling, Vane! It's no bloody use!
Vane: Well, well, the fearsome Edward Kenway speaks! Pray tell us, captain, how to quit this predicament! And tell us what genius you have for sailing a boat with no sails and no rudder!
Edward: SHUT! YOUR! GOB!

[seeks_truth]

Dragon Age: Inquisition's party banter is also pretty cool.

Blackwall: Could you be a little more gentle the next time we spar, Cassandra?
Cassandra: Why? You can take it.
Blackwall: Yes, but I'd rather not.
Cassandra: (Laughs.) I did not realize you were made of glass.
Blackwall: Bruised glass, thank you.

Blackwall: So you were the Right Hand of the Divine, and Leliana the Left?
Cassandra: Yes, and if you joke about the Right Hand not knowing what the Left is doing, I will punch you.
Blackwall: Me? No, I would never make such a terrible joke.

Cassandra: If you are to fight alongside us, Cole, I expect you to follow orders. The Inquisitor believes you wish to help, but I will not allow you to threaten innocents.
Cole: Yes. Help the hurt, save the small. If I become a demon, cut me down.
Cassandra: Do not doubt me. I will do it.
Cole: Good.
Cassandra: You're... serious, aren't you?
Cole: Yes. I hope you are, too.

(Cole was my first option to app from DA: I. Ahem.)

Cole:It's you, Cassandra. Breathing from the belly, cold air warmed, stones beneath me, candle before me, Maker all around. Then nothing, empty, I'm cut, cauterized, then caught, cleansed by a light that carries me home. You're thinking backwards. You don't have faith because of the spirit. The spirit came because of your faith. It's you.
Cassandra: Thank you, Cole. I appreciate that.

Dorian: Still don't like me, Cassandra? After all this time?
Cassandra: Why does it matter? We are different in every possible way.
Dorian: Not every way. There is my family.
Cassandra: Your family of slave owning Imperial magisters.
Dorian: Ghastly, isn't it? Toss it all in the fire and be done with it, that's what I say.
Cassandra: (Chuckles) Very well. There is that.

Cassandra: We hear odd stories of templars in the Imperium, Dorian.
Dorian:All true.
Cassandra: I haven't even told you what I've heard.
Dorian: Doesn't matter. All true. Particularly the part with the grapes and....
Cassandra: Oh. I was leading towards that one, actually.

[cracksmostly]

Coooooooooooooooooooooooole. ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

[giveherahand]

Leia: "I'm a diplomat, and you're not. You should have let me do the talking."
Mara: "I've been letting you do the talking, and all it's gotten us so far is an enforced vacation at this villa. I'm a businesswoman, a trader. Negotiation is my stock in trade."
Leia: "Do you call insulting our hosts negotiating?"
Mara: "Negotiating is the art of getting what you want. It's not the art of making the other side feel better."
Leia: "They aren't the 'other side.' They're our partners in this negotiation."
Mara: "If they were our partners, we wouldn't need to negotiate."

Luke: "Is there something you want to tell me?"
Mara: "If I wanted to tell you, I would, wouldn't I?"
Luke: "Not if you thought it might upset me."
Mara: "You've got me. I hate that shirt. In fact, I think you're a crummy dresser, period."
Luke: "You bought me this shirt."