Wish I had that to say about my room... or anything good to say about it, really. [He follows behind Dick, only to stop dead where he is, gaping around him in fascination that borders on awe. David's always been a little materialistic - for a kid who moved around all the time, possessions came to be anchors - and Dick's room embodies practically all those things he covets - money, power, and most important, security.]

... Nice place. [He tries to be nonchalant about it, but he's obviously impressed, even with all the piles everywhere. It's not like his room wasn't like that back when he had it.] Is this somewhere from Gotham?