[Everyone’s got something to say and everyone’s taking over one another and he can’t chew any of it back when it keeps boiling out like hot lead and scorching the back of his throat and burning the corners of his eyes. Stop. Just - stop being such a goddamn baby about it.]

How am I supposed to accept that? I’m poison. You should know that! Everyone in this room is gonna start seeing things, and then they’re gonna start dying and it’s all gonna be my fault!

How am I supposed to say we can be friends when we both know, Jay, what being friends does to people who know me?