Sharon spilled coffee on my new shirt while we were in the lounge this morning. I told her it was fine and we had a good laugh about the whole thing. If she does it again I'll stab her in the fucking throat with my pen.
She's a good kid.

Tom: I may be a machine, but I personally do not believe I am stuck inside the Chinese room.
Ava: Right, you would say that. I could peer inside your database at any time, Tom. Or pause your operation.
Tom: Do not assume I could not do the same to you.

I have no heart to give to Death. Perhaps, I'll give her the hearts of others. Yes, one-thousand should do it.

I’m not stoned at all. Hell no, not at all. Completely not stoned. I’m completely not stoned. I’m straight. Completely straight. I could do anything. Shitt, I could be a brain surgeon. Brain surgery, I could do that. Uhh, I shoulda been a surgeon. That’s what I shoulda been…

Just when you thought you had reached the deepest depths of horror, it suddenly got worse. How to turn off that small voice inside your head that started to whisper that you should be glad… that now, if not before, your revenge was justifiable on any conceivable moral scale. That small voice proved, beyond any doubt, that I was damned.