I'm a chemist too, Walter. Don't believe me? Just take a look at my blood. This iron, albuterol sulfate, acetaminophen, all this? I did it.

Don't force my hand, sweetheart.
Don't bite the poet that feeds.
Don't lick the flames that keep that rage you have going, you'll lose your identity.
Don't make your mother scream if you don't want to count bruises.
Don't be too soft, child.
Don't be too ugly, boy/girl/parasite.

Your God's a lion, recently fed, drowsy.*

I wish you'd believe me when I say I'm sick, Dad. My tongue's falling out.