A gust of wind went Nike across the flat landscape

Destiny was a machine built over time, each choice that you made in life adding another gear, another conveyor belt, another assemblyman. Where you ended up was the product that was spit out at the end—and there was no going back for a redo. You couldn‟t take a peek at what you‟d manufactured and decide, Oh, wait, I wanted to make sewing machines instead of machine guns; let me go back to the beginning and start again. One shot. That was all you got.

Bottom line? As much as you
wanted someone to change and believed they could, they were in control of their life. Not you. And you could throw yourself against the wall of their choices until you were black-and-blue and dizzy as hell, but unless they decided to take a different road, the outcome wasn’t going to be what you wanted.

Okay, okay, okay … go to your corners, boys. This is a nice Aubusson carpet you’re standing on. You get blood on it and I’ll have Fritz so far up my ass I’ll be coughing on his hankie.

You are perfect for a female."
"Not where I come from."
"Then they're using the wrong standard.

And second, I don't think there's much of a market for your particular brand of psychology."
"So not true."
"Butch, you and I just beat the crap out of each other."
"You started it. And actually, it would be perfect for Spike TV. UFC meets Oprah. God, I'm brilliant."
"Keep telling yourself that.
-Butch and V