You're gonna get tired of it, you know.

[She calls after him, not really bothering to actually look at him. They're all caged animals.

One day, when the beast's had enough, it's going to bite back. It's going to destroy, to give into the instinct. Domestication was really just a nice way of saying "you're tolerable enough to not maul on sight."]

You're gonna run out of excuses called The Company. [The bartend slides her a green glass bottle.] Real convenient, 'til it's not.

[Hanna takes a swig of her beer, far less pensive and graceful compared to the words coming out of her mouth.] You're no better than the rest of us.