And then I saw I'd always known that was the only possible way to give her peace and free her from the misery of loving me. I saw it meant peace for me, too, knowing she was at peace. I felt as though a ton of guilt was lifted off my mind. I remember I stood by the bed and suddenly I had to laugh. I couldn't help it, and I knew Evelyn would forgive me. I remember I heard myself speaking to her, as if it was something I'd always wanted to say: "Well, you know what you can do with your pipe dream now, you damned bitch!"

I'd get blind to world now if it was the Iceman of Death himself treating! (He stops, startedly, a superstitious awe coming into his face) What made me say that, I wonder. (With a sardonic laugh) Well, be God, it fits, for Death was the Iceman Hickey called to his home!

Capitalist svine! Stupid bourgeois monkeys! (He declaims) "The days grow hot, O Babylon!" (They all take it up and shout in enthusiastic jeering chorus) " 'Tis cool beneath they willow trees!"

I know you become such a coward that you'll grab at any lousy excuse to get out of killing your pipe dreams. And yet, as I've told you over and over, it's exactly those damned tomorrow dreams which keep you from making peace with yourself. So you've got to kill them like I did.

What's it matter if the truth is that their favoring breeze has the stink of nickel whiskey on its breath, and their sea is a growler of lager and ale, and their ships are long since looted and scuttled and sunk on the bottom? To hell with the truth! As the history of the world proves, the truth has no bearing on anything. It's irrelevant and immaterial, as the lawyers say. The lie of a pipe dream is what gives life to the whole misbegotten mad lot of us, drunk or sober.