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"
Check
your
premises
,
Dagny
.
Contradictions
don
’
t
exist
.
"
"
But
I
can
’
t
find
any
answer
.
I
can
’
t
condemn
you
for
what
you
’
re
doing
,
yet
it
’
s
horror
that
I
feel
—
admiration
and
horror
,
at
the
same
time
.
You
,
the
heir
of
the
d
’
Anconias
,
who
could
have
surpassed
all
his
ancestors
of
the
miraculous
hand
that
produced
,
you
’
re
turning
your
matchless
ability
to
the
job
of
destruction
.
And
I
—
I
’
m
playing
with
cobblestones
and
shingling
a
roof
,
while
a
transcontinental
railroad
system
is
collapsing
in
the
hands
of
congenital
ward
heelers
.
Yet
you
and
I
were
the
kind
who
determine
the
fate
of
the
world
.
If
this
is
what
we
let
it
come
to
,
then
it
must
have
been
our
own
guilt
.
But
I
can
’
t
see
the
nature
of
our
error
.
"
"
Yes
,
Dagny
,
it
was
our
own
guilt
.
"
"
Because
we
didn
’
t
work
hard
enough
?
"
"
Because
we
worked
too
hard
—
and
charged
too
little
.
"
"
What
do
you
mean
?
"
"
We
never
demanded
the
one
payment
that
the
world
owed
us
—
and
we
let
our
best
reward
go
to
the
worst
of
men
.
The
error
was
made
centuries
ago
,
it
was
made
by
Sebastian
d
’
Anconia
,
by
Nat
Taggart
,
by
every
man
who
fed
the
world
and
received
no
thanks
in
return
.
You
don
’
t
know
what
is
right
any
longer
?
Dagny
,
this
is
not
a
battle
over
material
goods
.
It
’
s
a
moral
crisis
,
the
greatest
the
world
has
ever
faced
and
the
last
.
Our
age
is
the
climax
of
centuries
of
evil
.
We
must
put
an
end
to
it
,
once
and
for
all
,
or
perish
—
we
,
the
men
of
the
mind
.
It
was
our
own
guilt
.
We
produced
the
wealth
of
the
world
—
but
we
let
our
enemies
write
its
moral
code
.
"
"
But
we
never
accepted
their
code
.
We
lived
by
our
own
standards
.
