human
Here I am,--growing grey in your service,--turned into the street. I am an IT,--a THING,--my individuality has been submerged. You have grafted all your ideas upon me, moulding me into your likeness. I am not allowed to think.
gpt
If you are moulded in my image it's a devilish botch I have made of it. Had you been moulded into something human a little earlier in life, you could not have wrecked existence for the two women rash enough to take your name. I have escaped with my sanity,--thank God. Now go.