GIBSON: I'd like to live a little myself, Nora. Life doesn't seem much worth living for me as it is, and if your theories are making you detest me I think I'm about through.
NORA: It's what you stand for that my theories make me detest—since you used the word.
GIBSON: Well, what is it that I stand for?
NORA: Class and class hatred.
GIBSON: Which class is the hatred coming from?
NORA: From both!
GIBSON: Just in this room right now it seems to be all on one side. And lately it has seemed to me to be more and more not so much class as personal; because really, Nora, I haven't yet been able to understand how a girl with your mind can believe that you and I belong to different classes.
NORA: You don't! So long as capital exists you and I are in warring classes, Mr. Gibson.
GIBSON: What are they?
NORA: Capitalist and proletariat. You can't get out of your class and I don't want to get out of mine.