I've taken alike to blogging...
V: I, like God, do not play with dice and do not believe in coincidence.
V: The only thing that you and I have in common, Mr. Creedy, is we're both about to die.
Creedy: How do you imagine that's gonna happen?
V: With my hands around your neck.
V: No, what you have are bullets, and the hope that when your guns are empty I'm no longer be standing, because if I am you'll all be dead before you've reloaded.
V: Beneath this mask there is more than flesh. Beneath this mask there is an idea, Mr. Creedy, and ideas are bulletproof.
Evey Hammond: Who are you?
V: Who? Who is but the form following the function of what, and what I am is a man in a mask.
Evey Hammond: Well I can see that.
V: Of course you can. I'm not questioning your powers of observation, I'm merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.
V: There's no certainty - only opportunity.
V: Would you... dance with me?
Evey Hammond: Now? On the eve of your revolution?
V: A revolution without dancing is a revolution not worth having!
V: The only verdict is vengeance, a vendetta, held as a votive not in vain.
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