I still dont know who codename V is, but I think I know what he is. — V for Vendetta

"Laughing, cheering, crying: They at least have not forsaken me … But why cant I feel anything for them? Theres only me here, isnt there? Ive known since childhood no one else is real. Just me and God. No boil upon the drivers neck; no stinking leatherette, no crowds, … Id talk to my creator, about Nigger boys on the estate; and men, naked in bed, rubbing together, rubbing, pushing … When I grew weak, wed 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 theres nothing. Now I am alone … except for them; waving beyond the glass. Ill try to love them more. Theyre all I have. Should I wave back? It mustnt 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."

"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, lets 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."

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

"I didnt put you in a prison, Evey. I just showed you the bars."

"Though recognitions 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 cant 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."