Libertarianism In Media

"[after the player completes the Quadtych] You'll find your path to Ryan is now clear. Tell him Sander said hello..."

"Free will is the cornerstone of this city. The thought of sacrificing it is abhorrent. However… we are indeed in a time of war. If Atlas and his bandits have their way, will they not turn us into slaves? And what will become of free will then? Desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Imagine the will it took to create a place like this. And what have you built? Nothing, you can only loot and break. You're not a man... you're just a termite at ."

"Me wife, Moira – she's a right pain in the neck. But she's a beauty and she means the world to me. I can't help but feel God's punishing me for bringing her and Patrick to this place. I thought this would be a better life for us. Can you imagine a bigger fool than that?"

"I remember when me and the Kraut put you in that sub. You were no more than two. You were my ace in the hole, but you were also the closest thing I ever had to a son. And that's why this hurts. Betrayal, kid. Life ain't strictly business."

"Watch yourself. Ryan's stirring. We best keep to our knitting. It's time to either run the table or go home empty. Ryan's got the genetic key to Rapture. We get that from him and we get out of this hellhole. We don't, then you and I are ghosts. Now, would you kindly head to Ryan's office and kill the son of a bitch? It's time to finish this."

"You've brought the Rosa Gallica? Well, what you waiting for? An engraved invitation? Send it through the Pneumo! [when the player does so] Yes, this is perfect... Perfect... [the door to her office opens] Come on up to my office... I'm letting you in now... I think I've got just the thing to put the green back in this forest."

"Hah! That might be enough for the working scrubs and the pencil pushers, but I need more, more. I want to splice 'till there ain't nothing left to splice with!"

"Where you gonna go? Your life? Your family? They're a fairy tale, kid. No more real than something you read about in the Saturday Evening Post. Poor bastard. A motherless freak whipped up in a half-baked science experiment."

"You think you're some kind of hero? I ordered you up from Suchong like a Chinese dinner: a little from column A, a little from column B. What do you plan on going back to? Your fake family? Your phony dreams? Putting you out of your misery will be the nicest thing anyone's ever done for you."

"I gotta say, I had a lot of business partners in my life, but you... 'Course, the fact that you were genetically conditioned to bark like a cocker spaniel when I said "Would You Kindly" might've had something to do with it, but still... Now, as soon as that machine finishes processing the genetic key you fished off Ryan, I'm gonna run Rapture tits to toes. You've been a pal. You know what they say: never mix business with friendship. Thanks for everything, kid. Don't forget to say "Hi" to Ryan for me."

"Hurry now, grab Ryan's genetic key! [Jack does so] Now would you kindly put it in that goddamn machine?! [when he does] Aaah! Nice work, boy-o! [laughs evilly, then speaks in a Bronx accent] It's time to end this little masquerade. There ain't no "Atlas", kid. Never was. Someone in my line of work takes on a variety of aliases. Hell, once, I was even a Chinaman for six months. But you've been a sport, so I guess I owe you a little honesty. Name's Frank Fontaine."

"All right, all right, you looking to slug it out? I'm game. But I've got all the ADAM in the city, pal. And now, I'm jake to take her out for a spin..."

"ADAM's the ultimate score, kid. No more grifts. No more scams. A monopoly on ADAM makes Standard Oil look like the Piggly Wiggly. All that's left is burying the bodies... And, when they're already six miles under the Atlantic, you got one helluva head start!"

"That Tenenbaum ain't what you think. Florence Nightengale, huh? That'll all come crashing down 'fore you can say "canned tomatoes". I've seen good bunco, and I've seen great bunco. But, when you waltz through Rapture and World War II without even a scratch? You got more than leprechauns watching over you."

"I know why you've come, little moth. You've your own canvas. One you'll paint with the blood of a man I once loved. Yes, I'll send you to Ryan. But first you must be part of my masterpiece. Go to the atrium. Hurry now. My muse is a fickle bitch with a very short attention span."

"I'm gonna miss this place. Rapture was a candy store for a guy like me. Guys who thought they knew it all. Dames who thought they'd SEEN it all. Give me a smart mark over a dumb one every time."

"Made Ryan good and mad when I started playing the charity angle. Fontaine's Home for the Poor. 'Fore I knew it, I was calling myself Atlas and leading an army. Ryan and his precious Rapture. You don't have to build a city to make people worship you... Just make the chumps believe they're worth a nickel."

"[angered] You broke the spell?! [pause] But layin' all your chips on Mother Goose – it's not like you never been double-crossed before, you know what I'm sayin'? Hoof it to Point Prometheus. We'll discuss this like men. You, me, a submarine topside, and more ADAM than you could possibly imagine."

"What's holding me back in my life … what's holding me back except..me?"

"You will be SILENT, Mr Almond! Your incompetence has cost us our oldest symbol of authority and a jarring propaganda defeat! Do you understand what happened last night? … And you allowed them to do it. I want this creature and his associates found Mr Almond. I want his head … or by God I'll have yours instead! You will consult Mr Dascombe at Jordan Tower before making any official pronouncements. That will be all, Mr Almond. England prevails."

"My name is Adam Susan. I am the leader. Leader of the lost, ruler of the ruins. I am a man, like any other man. I lead the country that I love out of the wilderness of the twentieth century. I believe in survival. In the destiny of the Nordic race. I believe in fascism. Oh yes, I am a fascist. What of it? Fascism… a word. A word whose meaning has been lost in the bleatings of the weak and the treacherous. The Romans invented fascism. A bundle of bound twigs was its symbol. One twig could be broken. A bundle would prevail. Fascism … strength in unity. I believe in strength. I believe in unity. And if that strength, that unity of purpose, demands a uniformity of thought, word and deed then so be it. I will not hear talk of freedom. I will not hear talk of individual liberty. They are luxuries. I do not believe in luxuries. The war put paid to luxury. The war put paid to freedom. The only freedom left to my people is the freedom to starve. The freedom to die, the freedom to live in a world of chaos. Should I allow them that freedom? I think not. I think not. Do I deserve for myself the freedom I deny to others? I do not. I sit here within my cage and I am but a servant. I, who am master of all that I see… I see desolation. I see ashes. I have so very much. I have so very little. I am not loved, I know that. Not in soul or body. I have never known the soft whisper of endearment. Never known the peace that lies between the thighs of a woman. But I am respected. I am feared. And that will suffice. Because I love. I, who am not loved in return. I have a love that is far deeper than the empty gasps and convulsions of brutish coupling. Shall I speak of her? Shall I speak of my bride? She has no eyes to flirt or promise. But she sees all. Sees and understands with a wisdom that is Godlike in its scale. I stand at the gates of her intellect and I am blinded by the light within. How stupid I must seem to her. How childlike and uncomprehending. Her soul is clean, untainted by the snares and ambiguities of emotion. She does not hate. She does not yearn. She is untouched by joy or sorrow. I worship her though I am not worthy. I cherish the purity of her disdain. She does not respect me. She does not fear me. She does not love me. They think she is hard and cold, those who do not know her. They think she is lifeless and without passion. They do not know her. She has not touched them. She touches me, and I am touched by God, by Destiny. The whole of existence courses through her. I worship her. I am her slave. No freedom ever was so sweet. My love, I would stay with you forever, would spend my life with you. I would wait upon your every utterance and never ask the merest splinter of affection. Fate… Fate… I love you."

"Laughing, cheering, crying: They at least have not forsaken me … But why can't I feel anything for them? There's only me here, isn't there? I've known since childhood no one else is real. Just me and God. No boil upon the driver's neck; no stinking leatherette, no crowds, … I'd talk to my creator, about Nigger boys on the estate; and men, naked in bed, rubbing together, rubbing, pushing … When I grew weak, we'd talk. I talked to God, while colleagues laughed … but I was vindicated: God was real, embodied in a form that I could love. When I first saw her screens, her smooth unyielding lines … not as a woman, with strange sweat and ugly body hair, but something cold, hard; sensual. We loved, my God and I. But then … them she betrayed me. Now there's nothing. Now I am alone … except for them; waving beyond the glass. I'll try to love them more. They're all I have. Should I wave back? It mustn't look rehearsed, or insincere, but be instead a gesture from the heart … as spontaneous as their own. They love me. I pass on. England prevails."

"Why does everything need a big demonstration? I ask the simplest question and it's like Alice In Wonderland."

"Anarchy wears two faces, both Creator and Destroyer. Thus Destroyers topple empires; make a canvas of clean rubble where creators can then build a better world. Rubble, once achieved makes further ruins' means irrelevant. Away with our explosives, then! Away with our Destroyers! They have no place within our better world. But let us raise a toast to all our bombers, all our bastards, most unlovely and most unforgivable, let's drink their health, then meet with them no more."

"I give up on the puzzles. I just want to turn the page upside down and read the answers."

"I think he's a psychopath, leader. I use the word in the most precise sense."

"Though recognition's been delayed by its circuitous construction, now the pattern, long concealed, emerges into view. Is it not fine? Is it not simple, and elegant, and severe? How strange, after the long exacting toil of preparation, it takes only the slightest effort and less thought to send this brief, elaborate amusement on its breathless, hurtling race. The merest touch, no more, and everything falls into place. The pieces can't perceive as we the mischief their arrangement tempts. Those stolid law-abiding queues, so pregnant with catastrophe. Insensible before the wave so soon released by callous fate. Affected most, they understand the least, and understanding, when it comes, invariably arrives too late."

"I didn't put you in a prison, Evey. I just showed you the bars."

"There's no flesh or blood within this cloak to kill. There's only an idea. Ideas are bulletproof."

"Good evening, London. I thought it time we had a little talk. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin … I suppose you're wondering why I've called you here this evening. Well you see, I'm not entirely satisfied with your performance lately…. I'm afraid your work's been slipping, and … and well, I'm afraid we've been thinking about letting you go. Oh, I know, I know. You've been with the company a long time now. Almost … Let me see. Almost ten thousand years! My word, doesn't time fly? It seems like only yesterday… I remember the day you commenced your employment, swinging down from the trees, fresh-faced and nervous, A bone clasped in your bristling fist … "Where do I start, sir?" You asked, plaintively. I recall my exact words: "There's a pile of dinosaur eggs over there, youngster," I said smiling paternally the while. "Get sucking." Well, we've certainly come a long way since then, haven’t we? And yes, yes, you're right, in all that time you haven’t missed a day. Well done, thou good and faithful servant. Also please don't think I've forgotten about your out-standing service record, or about all of the invaluable contributions that you've made to the company … Fire, the wheel of agriculture … It's an impressive list, old-timer. A jolly impressive list. Don't get me wrong. But … well, to be frank, we've had our problems, too. There's no getting away from it. Do you know what I think a lot of it stems from? I'll tell you … It's your basic unwillingness to get on within the company. You don't seem to want to face up to any real responsibility, or to be your own boss. Lord knows, you've been given plenty of opportunities … We've offered you promotion time and time again, and each time you've turned us down: "I couldn't handle the work, Guv'nor," you wheedled. "I know my place" To be frank, you're not trying, are you? You see, you've been standing still for far too long, and it's starting to show in your work … And I might add, in your general standard behaviour. The constant bickering on the factory floor has not escaped my attention … Nor the recent bouts of rowdiness in the staff canteen. Then of course there's … Hmmmm. Well, I didn't really want to have to bring this up, but … Well, you see I've been hearing some disturbing rumours about your personal life. No, never you mind who told me. No names, no pack drill … I understand that you are unable to get on with your spouse. I hear that you argue. I am told that you shout. Violence has been mentioned. I am reliably informed that you always hurt the one you love … The one you shouldn't hurt at all. And what about the children? It's always the children who suffer, as you're well aware. Poor little mites. What are they to make of it? What are they to make of your bullying, your despair, your cowardice and all your fondly nurtured bigotries? Really, it's not good enough, is it? And it's no good blaming the drop in work standards upon bad management, either … Though, to be sure, the management is very bad. In fact, let us not mince words … the management is terrible! We've had a string of embezzlers, frauds, liars and lunatics making a string of catastrophic decisions. This is plain fact. But who elected them? It was you! You who appointed these people! You who gave them the power to make your decisions for you! While I'll admit that anyone can make a mistake once, to go on making the same lethal errors century after century seems to me nothing short of deliberate. You have encouraged these malicious incompetents, who have made your working life a shambles. You have accepted without question their senseless orders. You have allowed them to fill your workspace with dangerous and unproven machines. All you had to say was "NO." You have no spine. You have no pride. You are no longer an asset to the company. I will however, be generous. You will be granted two years to show me some improvement in your work. If at the end of that time you are still unwilling to make a go of it … You're fired. That will be all. You may return to your labors."

"Remember, Remember, the 5th of November, the gunpowder treason and plot. I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot."

"Happiness is a prison, Evey. Happiness is the most insidious prison of all."

"Everybody is special. Everybody. Everybody is a hero, a lover, a fool, a villain, everybody. Everybody has their story to tell…"

"I still don't know who codename V is, but I think I know what he is."

"Despite their faults those two men were human beings; and he slaughtered them like cattle."

"Maranda/Miranda Citizen: A knight came here recently... He was amazing! But his heart was full of chaos... When he can cope with the pain, he'll be the mightiest warrior alive."

"Imperial soldier: I oppose peace!"

"Kaiser Dragon/CzarDragon: Humans and their unsatiable greed... Your lust for power always leads to a lust of blood... This place is a sanctuary for wayward souls... What business have you filthy creatures here? You slaughter my bretheren, and befoul their rest with the profanity of your continued existence... You should not have come here. In the name of all dragonkind, I shall grant you the death you so desire. I am the dealer of destruction... I am the font from which fear springs... I am Kaiser... And your time is at an end."

"Mayor of Thamasa: Magic is forbidden!"

"Imperial soldier: Three cheers for the Empire!"

"Narshe/Narche/Nalch guards: Mashine-riding self-important swine! Take this!"

"Mayor of Thamasa: Welcome! Magic? What is this Magic?"

"Imperial soldier: I'm not buying anything!"

"Mobliz/Molbriz kid: I wanna see Katrin's baby!"

"Gestahl/Gastra: Soldiers of the Empire! We stand at the dawn of a new age! The lost power of magic has returned to us! We are the chosen ones!"

"Gestahl/Gastra: Celes, child... You alone are special. Why don't I give you and Kefka the task of creating progeny to populate my new Magitek Empire?"

"Gestahl/Gastra: I'm simply going to put you to sleep using the very power you unleashed! What's so funny? Well then, it's only suitable that you fall asleep laughing!"

"General Leo: Shut up, Kefka. I oughta...."

"Figaro Guard: Kefka's "One shy of a six pack!""