“Cáscaras, empty vessels, every single one of them!” declared Tartaglione, rearing up with such righteous vehemence that he farted. “This whole project is … nefasto. You cannot create a thriving community, let alone a new civilization, by putting together a bunch of people who are no fucking trouble! Scuzi, pardon me mama, but it cannot be done. You want Paradise, you gotta build it on war, on blood, on envy and naked greed. The people who build it have got to be egomaniacs and lunatics, they’ve gotta want it so damn bad they’ll trample you underfoot, they’ve got to be charismatic and charming
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