Nothing good is free, and nothing free is good. You want the world to change, you have to force that change behind gun smoke and lead. Blood is the price, always and ever, if you want to buy freedom.

I promise not to hurt you, unless you try to take my shit. Then I'll twist your head off and hide it in a bush somewhere.

If you can cut the head off of this broom-goober with that sword, then I'll believe you can gank zombies with it.

Spittle flew from Jango’s lips as he shouted at the man in a woman’s voice that sounded like it was made of cyanide and sugar that had been laced with the patter of blood dripping on an abattoir floor, “This is the truth about The Killer, ain’t it baby? You’re just a big ol’ bag of screams under all that big, bad muscle, ain’t you?