[Tyrell's sitting in the kitchen of the boarding house, dirty boots propped up on the kitchen table.]

Things just keep on getting crazier and crazier around here, don't they? You think that after a year in this city I'd be more used to it, but... [there's a pause in which he seems to reconsider what he's saying.] Yeah.

Yeah. It's crazy. Inanimate objects coming alive, time repeating itself... and not being able to do much about it. I'll be honest, my vote is always behind doing things instead of sitting around talking about them.

[And yet, look at him now.]

You know what I find craziest, though? The whole coming and going thing. How do people even keep track of their friends and the people they care about? Someone told me about this thing they do in their world, a... 'census' or something, where they count the population and stuff. Could something like that be done here, 'cause every time I've asked, I've only ever been told 'about 200' newcomers, nothing more definite than that.

[And even that sounds like a lot of people to keep track of for Tyrell!]