You'd want some one to take it away.

You just want to get drunk, and be a beast.

You--you--oh--you don't know what you're doing, or how much it means! You don't know!" Her hands went up suddenly and covered her face.
Ford walked the length of the room away from her, turned and came back until he faced her where she stood leaning against the door, with her face still hidden behind her palms.

He reached out his arms to her, hesitated, and drew them back.
"I wish you'd go," he said.

"There are some things harder to fight than whisky.