“You owe me.""What do I owe you? All the things I gave you. How I took care of you. Money, information...pleasure. I denied you nothing. If I could give it to you, I did.""You gave me things that cost you nothing. It certainly didn't seem to be a hardship to fuck me.”

“I don’t give a fuck about whatever fucking rules you have. That was you that you just gave me. I wanted it, you gave it, I took it and I’m not fucking giving it back.”

“You owe me nothing, but I want everything.”

“If you will thank me, let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you, might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe, I thought only of you.”

“I could love you, I could kill you. I want this. This is how I make my mark, this is where I plant my flag, this is how I stake my claim, this is how I deny you, this is how I claim you, this is what you owe me, this is what I am taking, this is how I know I'm alive.”

“No, It does. And if I left, you’d probably want to give me my jacket back. And if you did, I wouldn’t be able to put it on, because the whole time I’d be knowing how perfectly it fit on you. How even though the sleeves are ridiculously too long and the collar is all fucked up and for all I know some guy named Salvatore is going to come in this very club and say, ‘Hey, that’s my jacket’ and strike up a conversation and sweep you off your feet away from me- even though all those things are true or possibly true, I just can’t ruin the image of you sitting there across from me wearing my jacket better than I, or anyone else could. If I don’t owe it to you, and I don’t owe it to me, I at least owe it Salvatore.”