"Can you hear me, Morpheus? I am going to be honest with you. I... hate... this place, this zoo, this prison, this reality—whatever you want to call it, I can't stand it any longer. It's the smell, if there is such a thing. I feel saturated by it. I can taste your stink, And every time I do, I fear that I've somehow been infected by it; it's repulsive, isn't it? I must get out of here. I must get free. And in this mind is the key, my key."