“Please, stop using my dreams to improve things, Dr. Haber. It won’t work. It’s wrong. I want to be cured.” “That’s the one essential prerequisite to your cure, George! Wanting it.” “You’re not answering me.” But the big man was like an onion, slip off layer after layer of personality, belief, response, infinite layers, no end to them, no center to him. Nowhere that he ever stopped, had to stop, had to say “Here I stay!” No being, only layers.
Yes, it’s Haber that has no inner life, no morals. Only surface after surface after surface.
