“We (men) would rather lose an arm out a city bus window than tell you simply, “You’re not theone.” We are quite sure you will kill us or yourself or both—or even worse, cry and yell at us.”

“Sure, cried the tenant men,but it’s our land…We were born on it, and we got killed on it, died on it. Even if it’s no good, it’s still ours….That’s what makes ownership, not a paper with numbers on it.""We’re sorry. It’s not us. It’s the monster. The bank isn’t like a man.""Yes, but the bank is only made of men.""No, you’re wrong there—quite wrong there. The bank is something else than men. It happens that every man in a bank hates what the bank does, and yet the bank does it. The bank is something more than men, I tell you. It’s the monster. Men made it, but they can’t control it.”

“But the people who took the bus didn't experience the city as we experienced the city. The pain made the city more beautiful. The story made us different characters than we would have been if we had skipped the story and showed up at the ending an easier way.”

“You can kill ten of our men for every one we kill of yours. But even at those odds, you will lose and we will win.”

“The problem is that you cannot prove yourself against someone who is much weaker than yourself. They are in a lose/lose situation. If you are strong and fighting the weak, then if you kill your opponent then you are a scoundrel... if you let him kill you, then you are an idiot. So here is a dilemma which others have suffered before us, and for which as far as I can see there is simply no escape.”

“Even when we lose an arm or a leg, there's not less of us but more. Human experience weighs more than human tissue.”