“Don't bend, don't bleed, don't beg, don't scream, don't whine, don't fight, don't tell me. Don't tell me, don't tell me. Don't feel, don't tear, don't kiss, don't care, don't touch, don't want me. Don't want me, don't want me. Something's so sick about this, my misery's so addictive. I'm halfway there watching Northshore from the floor singing to you over my shoulder.”
“Don't tell me what I'm doing; I don't want to know.”
“If…if you don't feel anything for me then don't touch me! Don't act like you care!”
“don't say it. don't tell me that nobody's going to stare at me, because they will. don't tell me it doesn't matter, because it does. and don't tell me i look fine because that's a lie.”
“Don't tell me, don't promise me, surprise me!”
“...Don't tell me he's bisexual! Don't tell me this is more of the guy in the hallway! Don't tell me he wants us to have it off together, Philip Roth fucking Philip Roth! That, I'm afraid, is a form of masturbation too fancy even for me.”