I don’t want a baby, Florence. I want to sit here and read. I want to go out for a drink. I want to listen to my hi-fi. I want to take the night train. I want to work as late as I want and spend my pay cheque on a sharkskin suit. I want to fuck you on the beach and take you to Australia, throw massive dinner parties and even do the dishes myself. I want to lie on the floor with the cats and listen to you play the piano and keep out of the way as your patients come through the door, I want to go to the theatre and the movies and out for lunch, and laugh at your jokes and your politics, and love you all the time. And you want to break all that, and you’re not even giving me a choice in the matter, and you’re pretending everything is fine. You say you want to build a new world but you just want to destroy the old one.