Uncle Jack: Your grandson. Last night, he seemed inclined to melancholy.
Major Amberson: What about? Not getting remorseful about all the money he spent at college, is he? I wonder what he thinks I'm made of.
Uncle Jack: Gold, and he's right about that part of you, father.
Major Amberson: What part?
Uncle Jack: Heart.
Major Amberson: I suppose that may account for how heavy it feels nowadays, sometimes. This town seems to be rolling right over that old heart you mentioned just now, Jack. Rolling over us and burying us under.
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