Une citation, une lettre, un court petit paragraphe, ou tout simplement, un extrait des paroles d'une chanson... bref, faites nous donc découvrir le passage qui vous a le plus ému, donné la chair de poule, fait mourir de rire, choqué, ou plu... A vous!!

régina,dis au pretre qu'il n'aime pas son dieu;dis au toscan sans maitre au'il n'aime pas sa ville;au marin sur la mer qu'il n'aime pas l'aurore après la nuit d'hiver;va trouver sur son banc le forçat las de vivre,dis lui qu'il n'aime pas la main qui le délivre.mais ne me dis jamais que je ne t'aime pas.Victor Hugo

Devil cracked the earthly shell
Foretold she was the one
Blew hope into the room and said:
You have to live before you die young

V: I can assure you I mean you no harm.

Evey: 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: 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.

Evey: Oh. Right.

V: But on this most auspicious of nights permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace sobriquet, to suggest the character of this dramatis persona.

[V throws back his cape.]

V: Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition!  The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.  Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me "V".

Creedy: Take off your mask.

V: No.

[Creedy nods and two Fingermen approach V; one tries to remove his mask, but V kills them both]

Creedy: Defiant until the end, huh? You won't cry like him, will you? You're not afraid of death. You're like me.

V: The only thing you and I have in common, Mr. Creedy, is that we are both about to die.

Creedy: How do you imagine that'll happen?

V: With my hands around your neck.

Creedy: Bollocks. We've swept this whole place. You've got nothing. Nothing but your bloody knives and your fancy karate gimmicks. We have guns.

V: No. What you have are bullets and the hope that when your guns are empty I'm no longer standing, because if I am, you'll all be dead before you've reloaded.

Creedy: That's impossible. Kill him!

[Creedy's men open fire on V, who remains standing after their guns are empty, with many rounds fired]

V: My turn.

[V keeps his word and slays all of Creedy's men, while Creedy frantically reloads his revolver]

Creedy: (starts shooting the approaching V) Die! Die! Why won't you die? (his gun clicks empty) Why won't you die?

V: Beneath this mask there is more than flesh. Beneath this mask there is an idea, Mr. Creedy, and ideas are bulletproof.

[V grabs Creedy by the neck, lifts him up and pins him to the fence; within seconds there is a sickening snap, and Creedy goes limp]