Hiroshi Sakurazaka Quotes

Well, anyway Rita, I have to run, some, uh, Bechdel tests on your jacket.

They ate earth and shat out poison, leaving behind a lifeless wasteland. The alien intelligence that had created them had mastered space travel and learned to send information through time. Now they were taking our world and turning it into a facsimile of their own, every last tree, flower, insect, animal, and human be damned.

They say people who die in dreams are supposed to live forever.

Of course, there were only three kinds of battle to begin with: fucked up, seriously fucked up, and fucked up beyond all recognition

On the next clear night, look up in the direction of the constellation humanity calls Cancer. Between the pincers of the right claw of that giant crab in the sky sits a faint star. No matter how hard you stare, you won't see it with the naked eye. It can only be viewed through a telescope with a thirty-meter aperture. Even if you could travel at the speed of light, fast enough to circle the earth seven and a half times in a single second, it would take over forty years to reach that star.

If I lived, she died, and I'd never find someone like her again. If she lived, I would have to die. No matter how many times I ran it through my head, there didn't seem to be another way out. One of us had to die and Rita didn't want to talk it through. She was going to let our skill decide.

You were just a piece on the board, and I was the piece that replaced you. Nothing more than the false hero the world needed. And now this good-for-nothing world was going to push me across the same bloodstained, smoke-filled battlefield.

While I live and breathe, humanity will never fall. I promise you. It may take a dozen years, but I will win this war for you. Even if you won't be here to see it. You were the only person I wanted to protect, and you were gone.

Who taught you to pilot a Jacket like that?"
"You did, Sergeant.

But even as the fear racks my body, it soothes me, comforts me. Soldiers who get washed away in a rush of adrenaline don't survive. In war, fear is the woman your mother warned you about. You knew she was no good for you, but you couldn't shake her. You had to find a way to get along, because she wasn't going anywhere.

My body never changed, but the OS that ran it had seen a total overhaul.

How many loops is this for you?

and all who trained, slept, and shat within its walls.

It was like a software if/then routine: If checkflag RitajoinsPT =true, then end. Else continue routine: FuckingIsoPush-Ups

It took something massive to shatter a Mimic endo-skeleton in one hit. That it could kill me in the process was beside the point.

Your mother must have been disappointed when the abortion only killed your conscience.

Is it true the green tea they serve in Japan at the end of your meal comes free?

She didn't shed a tear. Angels don't cry.

We'd never trained together, but we moved like twins, veterans of countless battles at each other's side.
She really was a master. In less than five minutes, she'd learned to work in tandem with me. When she realized I could use a free arm or leg to knock her clear of an attack, she turned and faced the next enemy head on, without any intent of dodging. A Mimic foreleg came within a hand's breadth of her face and she didn't even flinch.

You shouldn't assume everything you don't understand is a message,

to keep the Mimics away. He carried all-natural coffee beans you couldn't find

Our enemy may have evolved the ability to rewind time, but humanity had evolved a few tricks of its own. There were people who could keep a Jacket in tip-top condition, people who could conjure up strategies and handle logistics, people who could provide support on the front lines, and last but not least, people who were natural-born killers

If you flipped a switch in the back of your brain, you could watch a second go by like the frames of a movie. Once you figured out what would be happening ten frames later, you could take whatever steps you needed to turn the situation to your advantage. All at a subconscious level. In battle, you couldn't count on anyone who didn't understand how to break down time.

If there's a heaven, it's a cold place. A dark place. A lonely place.

I was in the valley of the shadow of death, no two fucking ways about it, but I had Rita at my side.

Death comes quick, in the beat of a heart, and he ain't picky about who he takes.

The armored infantry was Santa Claus, the battle was out Christmas. What else for the elves to do on Christmas Eve but to let their hair down and drink a a little eggnog.

A window of opportunity might present itself in tomorrow's battle. The odds of that happening may be 0.1 percent, or even 0.01 percent, but if I could improve my combat skills even the slightest bit- if that window were to open even a crack- I'd find a way to force it open wide. If I could learn to jump every hurdle this little track meet of death threw at me, maybe someday I'll wake up in a world with a tomorrow.

Generals were early to bed, early to rise, always brushing their teeth after every meal, never skipping a morning shave. All they had to do was sit back in Nagano drawing up their battle plans. One order from them and us mortals on the front lines would move like pawns across a chessboard to our grisly fates. I'd like to see just one of them here with us in the mud. We had our own rules down here. Which is probably why they stayed away. If one of them showed, I'd see to it a stray bullet put them on the Killed In Action list.

The fear that permeated every fiber of my being was relentless, it was cruel, and it was my best hope for getting through this.

Our lives should be written in stone. Paper is too temporary - too easy to rewrite.

Who knows? Maybe something will change. Or maybe, I'll find a way to take this fucking world and piss in its eye.That'd be just fine by me.

All I could hear were screams, sobbing, and "Fuck!" Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! The profanities were flying as thick as the bullets.

there were only three kinds of battle to begin with: fucked up, seriously fucked up, and fucked up beyond all recognition. No use panicking about it.

Good ideas don't stand a chance against good bureaucracy.

Food is like war. You have to experience it for yourself.