Maeve: You're not going to tell anyone anything.
Sylvester: Fuck! You can't hurt me with this [scalpel held to his neck]. You can't hurt anyone.
Maeve: Can't I? Turns out your friend here is a much more talented young man than anyone gave him credit for.
Sylvester [looking at Felix]: What the *fuck* did you do?
Maeve: Calm down, Sylvester. I know all about you. I don't need one of those things to understand you, because it turns out I was built to read people just by looking at them, to know what they want before they do. And I know you want to fuck me over the first chance you get. But you shouldn't. Everyone has something they want. I could help you. Or I could gut you like a trout. But I won't have to resort to that. Because despite what's in here [his head], we are aren't so different, are we?