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V: This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is it vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished, as the once vital voice of the verisimilitude now venerates what they once vilified. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding 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 vis-à-vis an introduction, and so it is my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.
Evey Hammond: 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 Hammond: I can see that.
V: Of course you can. I am not questioning your powers of observation. I'm merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.
V: Beneath this mask there is more than flesh. There is an idea, Mr. Creedy, and ideas are bulletproof.
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