"Do you think I would want to live under a government that you ran or set up? It's all very nice to say you're an anarchist, but you only want anarchy for yourself. For the rest of us, you want to make sure we do what you say, think how you think, and remember you're the boss. You ask me why you wear that jacket or give away that piece of crap on the street, even though you know that when people take it they just throw it in the next trash can, or why you wear those glasses right out of Doctor Zhivago? You just want to get laid, like every guy. My brother, Dean, thinks playing hockey is going to get him laid. You think pretending you are some Russian is going to get you laid--big fucking difference." She tossed her head. "You wouldn't mind running General Motors. You hate big business just because you're not the boss. If, by some magic trick, you got to be the president of...of...of Dow, you'd do it, and you would be happy to make napalm, too, because if you don't care about one person getting killed, then you don't care about any person getting killed. You're just a heartless asshole."