[And yeah, 'course he takes it too far. Makes it seem like it's their fault. Judge, jury, executioner. Verdict: guilty.

This ain't helping anyone. He stops. Shuts his eyesockets and takes a moment.]

It ain't your fault, kid. I'm sorry.

[How many times does he gotta screw up before he finally manages to get through to 'em? How many times does he make 'em feel bad for everything before their seemingly limitless forgiveness snaps and severs?]

We're gonna do what we can with what we got. Not any of us chose to be here. Can't choose who we care about either.

And like it or not, I, uh, I wanna see you be all right.