One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. She pulled the door so that it was not quite to, and held out her hand, palm up. For nearly thirty years he had lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill him with discontent. . Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. She killed a man who was squatting outside of a freezing brick shanty on the southern edge of Chicago as he waited for his dealer. “Broken-in people! I suppose the world is just all egotistical children and broken-in people.
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