Anger has a way of returning.

“I wore an eye patch when I was a kid, you said. Maybe we met out here and fell …”

“Instead of lowering your head and copping to it like a man, you pick up the jou…”

“Wondering aloud, If we were orcs, wouldn't we, at a racial level, imagine ourse…”

“He whistles. Que viva Colombia. Hands you back the Book. You really should writ…”