"You're a dreamer," he exclaimed, resentment increasing.
"I suppose I am. Is that bad?"
"Wouldn't it be better if you weren't?"
"What do you mean?"
"Just that."
"But I try to do my job; I work hard. I don't understand you."
"It would be better to let the wounded die. They were damn fools to get themselves wounded in the first place."
"Orville ... Orville!"
She was troubled and frightened: such a voice.
"I put them to death, and you sew them together ... we call that life."