Caesar: You're the courier who's caused so much trouble for my Legion, and yet you dare come before me. Vulpes Inculta, the best of my frumentarii, is dead. All the bribes I sent to the Omertas ended up buying me nothing. The Great Khans aren't exactly clamoring to fight for my Legion *now*. The garrison I established at Nelson has been wiped out. Years of meticulous scheming to place a mole at Camp McCarran - wasted. The Kings of Freeside are cooperating with the NCR now, which frees up soldiers to defend the dam. You even disrupted a promising weapons deal with the Van Graffs. So tell me this, because I *really* want to know: I am feared - with good reason - but *you* of all people dare to come before *me*, the mighty Caesar. What were you thinking?
Courier: [Terrifying Presence option] That I'd decorate this tent with your guts.
Caesar: G-guards! GUARDS! HELP ME!
Courier: You seem calm given the situation.
Colonel Hsu: Calm is what you have to be when people look to you, and it's all you can be when things are out of your hands.
Courier: You said before you had something taken from you.
Doc Mitchell: Well, ain't we all, right? That was a long time ago. I don't pay it much mind anymore.
Robert Edwin House: I haven't shown my hand - I've shown one card. I've given my enemies a single, provocative datum upon which to fixate. They have no idea what other cards I'm holding. It's a strong hand, believe me - I dealt it to myself.
Robert Edwin House: Nothing to impede progress. If you want to see the fate of democracies, look out the windows.
Mr. New Vegas: The women of New Vegas ask me a lot if there's a Mrs. New Vegas. Well, of course there is. You're her. And you're still as perfect as the day we met.
Courier: Wasn't the NCR's army big enough to defeat your securitrons and the Three Families?
Robert Edwin House: Indeed it was - and still is. But not without taking significant casualties. Would Kimball and Oliver have traded the lives of hundreds of soldiers for absolute control of Hoover Dam? Oh yes. They weren't afraid of me, they were afraid of Caesar - that attacking me would leave them vulnerable to a Legion offensive. And so they negotiated. Not out of the kindness of their hearts, as they try to make it seem. Because the calculus of power left no other choice.
The Lonesome Drifter: Well, I was born in a little town out Montana way. Me and Ma didn't have much, ever since my pa up and left.
Courier: [Lady Killer Perk] Wait, Montana? You wouldn't happen to be seventeen, would you?
The Lonesome Drifter: No sir, I'm twenty-eight. Why?
Courier: Oh, thank god. Nevermind. So your father left?
Courier: If we share history, then before going forward, I want to know the past.
Ulysses: "Who are you, who do not know your history?" You came all this way for answers. Only currency I have. Nothing else to be gained. Could turn around, walk away at any time. If history matters to you, you'll need to earn it. Any logs of mine I have already cast away in the Divide, they're lost to you. For now, find the trigger for the warheads buried in Hopeville. Use it to keep moving... and keep alive.
Courier: Fine. I'll find this trigger, then I'll come find you.
Ulysses: The Divide will send its worst against you. It may break you. We'll see if you're stronger. Road gets rougher from here, Courier. Left marks for you, colors'll tell the way - if you're smart. They'll lead you to your home one more time, lead to the ending of it. Maybe remind you why you wander.
Mr. New Vegas: Rumors persist about a super mutant refuge nestled high in a ski lodge to the northwest. If you should find it, do not, repeat, *do not* belittle a super mutant for taking the bunny slope.
[after completing the "Come Fly With Me" quest by helping the Bright Brotherhood repair the rockets]
Mr. New Vegas: Several unidentified objects were spotted flying over the REPCONN test site by a local crackpot. He spoke to a toy bear near one of our microphones.
No-bark Noonan: It's ghouls, I tell you. Religious ghouls in rockets looking for a land to call their own. Don't you laugh at me! I know a spell that will make you show your true form! A cave rat taught it to me.
[after killing or disabling Mr. House at any point during the game]
Rose of Sharon 'Cass' Cassidy: What did you... did you put a plug in his cocktube and make him explode?
Courier: How about I go find dear Daniel and shake the information out of him?
Joshua Graham: There are many reasons why that would be a bad idea. I will illuminate three. First, do not believe that because Daniel is a missionary he is incapable of, or unwilling, to defend himself. Second, if you harm Daniel or any of the Sorrows or Dead Horses, I will find you. Make no mistake. God willing, you will not leave this valley. Lastly, waging war against good people is bad for the soul. This may not seem important to you now, but it's the most important thing I've said.
Robert Edwin House: Success depends on forethought, dispassionate calculation of probabilities, accounting for every stray variable.
Mr. New Vegas: Refugees at Bitter Springs are giving startling accounts of the Legate, known as Lanius, who is said to be Caesar's top field commander. One refugee told us that "The Legate took over an *under-performing* squad of troops by beating its commander to death in full view of everyone." The Legate then ordered a tenth of his own troops to be killed by the other nine-tenths.
Mr. New Vegas: And you thought your boss was a pain.
[after completing the Wild Card: You and What Army? quest by destroying the Securitron vault beneath the Weather Station at the Legion Fort]
Mr. New Vegas: Strange rumors from across the river indicate that a secret underground robot army has been destroyed before anyone had a chance to use it.
Mr. New Vegas: Dang it, I could have used one of those.
Benny: That was a nice bit of hey-hey, girlie! You're a real ring-a-ding broad!
Ulysses: You walked the Mojave without a flag on your back. That'll end soon. You can't walk the Long 15, and not have a nation's shadow fall on you.
Ulysses: Maybe you just need to be tested. Or you believe in nothing. We'll see.
Joshua Graham: We warned you at Syracuse, and you persisted. You took advantage of us at New Canaan to drive us out, and like the dogs of Caesar you are, you followed us to Zion. And now you stand on holy ground, a temple to God's glory on Earth. But the only use for an animal in our temple is sacrifice.
Craig Boone: I met Carla while I was at the Strip on leave. She said I looked lost. She talked a lot. Suited me fine... I never know what to say. And listening to her, it could... make you forget. She stuck out pretty much everywhere we went, like she was from a different time. A better time. I never met anyone like her.
Arcade Israel Gannon: Oh, alright. I'm thirty-ish. Well, late thirties. I was born... west... of here. I was an only child and spent most of my time with my mother. My father died when I was young and I never got over it. Oh! And I like medicine and reading books about failed pre-war socioeconomic policies. Right now I'm sure you're asking yourself, "Why hasn't some lucky man scooped this bachelor off his feet?" Like I said: I'm boring.
Courier: Do you always deflect personal questions?
Arcade Israel Gannon: Only to obfuscate my past association with a fascist paramilitary organization. I'm joking, of course. I will deflect personal questions at any opportunity!
[after installing Cachino as new manager of Gomorrah following completion of "How Little We Know" quest]
Mr. New Vegas: Gomorrah is under new management after the departure of Omerta bosses Nero and Big Sal. The casino's new manager spoke to reporters.
Cachino: Before he left, Nero told me him and Big Sal were real tight, see. Said that they were gonna go camping up at Lake Mead, said they always wanted to sleep with the lakelurks.
[after allowing Benny to escape during "Ring-a-Ding-Ding!" quest]
Mr. New Vegas: Rumors have swirled that Tops Hotel owner Benny has taken *another* unexpected leave of absence. We spoke to his right-hand man Swank.
Swank: Do I seem worried to you, baby? Sometimes a cat just needs room to swing. He'll be back, as sure as a conga drum's got a groovy beat.