Hannah Lee Baker: The queen is quaint and quick conceit, which makes her walk which way she list. And roots spin up that lie in wait, to work her treason 'ere she wist. Her force is such against her foes, that whom she meets she over throws.
Hannah Lee Baker: The pawns, poor pawns are silly swains, which seldom serve, except by hap. And yet those pawns can lay their trains, to catch a great man in a trap. So that I see sometimes a groom, may not be spared from his room.
Donny Baker: Red phosphorus, benzene, phosphine gas. Mix 'em together, you've got a real shit storm on your hands.
Hannah Lee Baker: [to Frank] So what now?
Frank Stinson: Now?
Hannah Lee Baker: There's only one way it can end. Win or draw, your choice.
Frank Stinson: Go home.
Donny Baker: One spark - boom. Boom.