Doctor: "Stop fracturing your ribs, stop getting road rash, stop meeting strange boys in alleys, stop puncturing your lungs, stop having a high pain threshold."
Nate: "I think that's actually just all the drugs he's constantly doing."
Doctor: "Oh, do you?"
Nate: "I mean, just kidding."
Doctor: "No, I'm not the kind of doctor that would care about that. Just make sure he doesn't accidentally kill himself with all those drugs he's been doing and continues to do. Maybe if I were a different kind of doctor, I would think there was medical interest in this fact, but honestly I'm not even a doctor. I just met your mom in the woods, where she has started a cult. Anyway, I'm glad he has somebody to depend on. You seem like a nice boyfriend."
Nate: "This whole not-caretaking thing I decided on last week was never going to last anyhow. Farewell, Mr. Brothaniel Snarchibald. You were fun and impotent while you lasted. But mostly you were impotent."
Beatrice: "[I am so hungry from all that shopping! And constant eating I kept trying to make you do!]"
Blair: "I have to go upstairs now. You go eat at your dumb Feast. Say hi to your brother and whassup to the Virgin Mary."
Dorota: "Did you need something else?"
Beatrice: "I will be making a bunch of Assumptions. You should Feast on them."
Dorota: "Oh, what now. You Grimaldi bitches are all the same."
Beatrice: "Blair is a drug addict."
Dorota, verbatim: "No. Miss Blair too much control freak to use mind-alter substance, even to help mood swing." (Hee!)
Beatrice: "Okay, then why the constant use of -- and I realize it's unnecessary and annoying for me to say it like this, but unnecessary and annoying are kinda my whole thing -- les toilettes?"
Dorota: "Perhaps it is your imperialist colonial stank? She's been horking since you showed up."
Beatrice, verbatim: "I knew I recognized that faint acrid smell from boarding school! The pale skin, not eating in public... Blair's obviously bulimic."
Dorota: "Yeah, but no. These days she is digesting everything. Constantly. Why don't I go make you both tuna melts? That should settle her stomach right down."
Beatrice: "Louis? We need to speak right away. Preferably in English, for some reason."