human
What are your plans now?
gpt
Find a job, I suppose.
human
You’re in no condition to work nor to look for work—just out of the hospital.
gpt
But I’ve got to eat.
human
That’s a fool superstition! he exploded.
gpt
You don’t have to work in order to eat. None of ’the best people’ do. Half the trouble with the world is that so many idiots will sweat—just to eat. If they’d refuse to work for tripe-stews and demand box seats at the opera, it would do wonders. Why people will slave all their lives long for a chance to die in a tenement is beyond me. What kind of work do you want?
human
How much money have you?
gpt
One hundred and eighty-five dollars and ninety-three cents. And then my books—perhaps I could get a hundred more for them.