There's an awful lot of breathin' room, but I can hardly move

I don't know who you are. I think that's the problem. I want to know who you are, who we are.

[Dick reaches across and takes Iggy's hand, meeting their fingers together. He knows he hasn't done enough listening. He needs to figure out how to do it better. He needs to be silent far more often.]

Tell me more about you, about what you want, who you are. I never feel like you want to talk, so I keep filling in the gap. Too much, I realize.