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Walt!
l know this is really hard to understand. All of this.
Michael Dawson?
l'm coming for Walt. l'm getting my son back.
Uh, dude, your kid's gone.
- What the hell would... - [Walt] Help, please! Help!
l picked the bronze-cuckoo.
You know what that is? Perspective?
l... l need to talk to you.
- What about you? - Don't worry about me.
l traced comics. Taught myself about perspective.
Did my mom have these?
Um, l'm gonna get some water.
- Take Vincent and go back to camp. - Mr. Locke...
Good literature's scarce around here.
Where were you when l was growing up? Nowhere!
[whistling]
- You mean this one? - Give it to me.
Grow old, good luck. But l'm doing this. My son and l are leaving.
Yo, dudes, got a new tourney lined up.
[chuckles]
Can l come in?
Jack!
- l was... - l don't want to hear you!
l knew you had it in you.
- You're reading her diary? - Yeah, l know, l'm bloody scum.
- Whoa. - Yes!
l mean, it doesn't look funny. Just the name.
We're playing for deodorant sticks. You dawgs up for some golf?
But there's no sense going out into the jungle in the middle of the night.
Now!
[Locke] Claire?
- A frame for what? - You'll see soon enough.