Noah: You the one who ain't supposed to be here. I ain't leave you out there to die. I threw you something to defend yourself because I felt sorry for you.
Cato: You felt sorry for me?
Noah: I ain't through yet! You can sit there, in your pristine clothes, speaking with the proper white man's tongue. You can fool everyone outside there in the civilized world; you can fool everyone in here; but you can't fool me. You still the snake of a slave-driver you was when you left Macon. I see you. You ain't good enough for this here life. I ain't talking about money, or even the freedom. You ain't good enough to earn drawing breath, and the thing is, you know it. Everyone around you knows it. Everyone who has ever known you.