- Sam: You didn't wake me up. I missed the causeway. And you were gonna bring Epona to me.
- Mr. Martin: Well, I did come to wake you, Sam, but when I stood outside your door, I realized that I couldn't disturb you. Um, not my business at all. I do not make judgments.
- Sam: Look, I really need to get home. My wife doesn't know where I am.
- Sam: How's Epona?
- Mrs. Martin: Alive.
- Sam: Can I see her?
- Mrs. Martin: Why? You don't trust us?
- Sam: I'm not saying that.
- Sam: Pain doesn't work that way. You can't share it. Agony's bespoke. Yours is yours, theirs is theirs. Mostly grief is lonely.
- Mrs. Martin: Something appalling happened to you. It reached down inside you, and ripped a piece of you out. Killed it dead. When all the time you were saying 'no, no, don't blame them', when really you were raging inside.
- Sam: No, that's not true.
- Mrs. Martin: That rage will out, Sam. Grief wants its pound of flesh. It wants mayhem, and chaos, and havoc. It wants to destroy. I understand that. But I'm not letting it happen here.