"But I don't hate anything, sir."
"You do!"
"But, sir, I don't."
"Barton, I said you hate yourself. It's in all the charts, everything. We all hate ourselves to some extent, why should you be different from everybody else?"
"Why not, sir?"
Von Ulrich pressed his hand over his eyes, and walked out.
It was like a dream with a shadow drifting in and out and in again, and it was Von Ulrich, looking so much older this time. "It's been almost fifteen years, Barton. Fifteen years."
"So? Fifteen years earth time. What does that mean here to me, sir?" Barton smiled, closed his eyes. "What does time matter in your mother's womb?"
"You've developed a definite measurable syndrome, Barton. Excessive lethargy and a sleeping compulsion. Eventually it will destroy your efficiency as a watcher if it hasn't already."