Shut up, shut up you don't know half of what I've done! [First Daisy, then those scientists, Songbird and the Vox, all of New York...]

Tell me what part of driving a pair of scissors through someone's back doesn't make me a murderer? Tell me what part of watching her gasp and reach for me while I was covered in her blood doesn't make me responsible? [She holds her head between her hands, trying to calm down before tears start flickering around her. It's a losing battle.]

Tell me what part of lighting the entire city of New York on fire makes me better than you!