All people have sanctuary which mustn't be touched. A scar of sadness which mustn't be entered. The living confront each other to achieve their ideals. In a quiet voice, the man in the white coat told me... that he had finally found me, that he wanted my life. That man smiled a smile deeper than darkness. Legato Bluesummers, a man fascinated by Death...
I think it's good if someone smiles when you smile at them. The beauty of voluntary acts can foster goodwill in the hearts of others. Love which doesn't ask for collateral gives us respect as people. However it's wrong to sustain that. In time, the strain will bloom into the flower called Lie...the thorny flower which hurts people.
You were always smiling, real friendly like, but the way you smiled was so empty it hurt to watch you.
It's a simple formula. The greater the tragedy, the greater the emotional effect.
Every moment hesitated is a moment gone from life.
Whenever I look at you, I'm reminded about everything I hate about myself. It hurts.
However, I do know one guy who whines, cries, and throws tantrums but still manages to save everyone. He's a crazy man who's not afraid of anything. Even though he's been scarred from head to toe, he'll always be there.
People who sin say that they had to... had to survive. People who sin say that it's too late to stop now. The shadow called Sin dogs them steadily from behind, silently, without a word. Remorse and Agony are repeated, only to end up at Despair. But what sinners don't know, or what they have forgotten, is that there is a light, a light which keeps shining on them ever so warmly. A light that will never fade.
It must be the way you look, Vash the Stampede. Your very existence seems to cause me undue irritation.
And to think, I could kill every man, woman and child here in the blink of an eye if I wanted to. The power of death is intoxicating.
Thanks a lot, dream wrecker.
[about Vash] The way he looked at me... it was as though he had shot the kid...
Vash the Stampede... every time I observe his actions I can't help but sense something hidden deep within him, something we can't being to understand. But this much is certain: everyone who has become involved with him has somehow regained an emotion which was once lost.
I picked up my first gun at the age of seven. And I shot. I remember how strangely easy it was to pull the trigger. Ha. I actually laughed. Because that one shot was all that was needed to silence that sickening piece of garbage who had the nerve to call himself my guardian. Ha. It was that simple. And so I was free. Yes, tomorrow would be different. Hm. Tomorrow. As much as I wanted to believe, it only went from bad to worse. A vicious cycle... I didn't want other kids to grow up like me, so I started my own orphanage. It was gratifying work, I was actually doing something for the good of others. It was my place of peace and happiness... yet sometimes, I still think to myself "there's no place worse than this planet. It's horrible here."
Dangerous toys are fun, but you can get hurt.
Those who make mistakes blame themselves and close their hearts. It's impossible to fix the mistake. Men can't return to the past. That's why they drink. Lushes, drunks, sliding alcohol down their throats to try to dilute the memories that can't be forgotten. Frank Marlon, the gunsmith, does nothing but drink, and questions the glass after it's empty. "Am I wrong? Was I wrong?"
Come again, Needle Noggin? [singing] Total slaughter, total slaughter. I won't leave a single man alive. La de da de die, genocide. La de da de dud, an ocean of blood. Let's begin the killing time.