[It's not the hair. Not in the way Steve might think. Westworld is a place buttoned up people go to let loose; to find who they truly are beneath their neutral suits and tidy coifs.

Lawrence wants to wipe the practiced smile off of Steve's face; replace it with something unexpected and real. He wants to see his carefully styled hair replaced with something wild. He wants to see Steve ruined and enjoying it.

It's in Lawrence's programming to want that sort of thing, and he doesn't mind it one bit.]

I got my strengths. I know where they lie.

[He lifts his chin as he says this; watches Steve through dark, half-lidded eyes.]

It is. I do know that. As for gettin' to it: I did.

[Lawrence's eyes narrow; his jaw tightens.]

And then whoever the fuck runs this hoosegow took away the means.

[Also: his gun. Lawrence is sore about both things.]