Without you, I’m so lonely on this road. So lonely. Please don’t cry. Please don’t cry tonight.
He only says he went there for the noodles. He might have gone somewhere to bury himself.
I am Andrew Ryan, and I’m here to ask you a question. Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow? ‘No!’ says the man in Washington, ‘It belongs to the poor.’ ‘No!’ says the man in the Vatican, ‘It belongs to God.’ ‘No!’ says the man in Moscow, ‘It belongs to everyone.’ I rejected those answers; instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible…
I chose… Rapture
