What are you doing?

I'm going to New York to open a whorehouse, Michael.

Look, Lorraine, I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said before.

I know you didn't, Michael. But I'm going to New York with Jack. It got too stuffy here.

I don't get it, Lorraine.

You really want to know?

Yeah.

You've got these rules, Michael... but whose rules are they? Whose dream are you buying into? You've been angry for so long you don't even know it. We're all scared... but somehow we don't believe that babies, TV sets, two-car garages and McCarthy are going to make us happy. You think Roslyn did something wrong. Maybe in your world she did, but in our world she's just fighting for some sort of freedom - freedom from slavery she can't even explain. Don't you see, Michael? Life is not wall-to-wall carpeting with half down and the rest of your life to pay. You and I had a good time, some tenderness... but you can't even enjoy it because somewhere in your mind it was dirty... un-American. Figure out what you want, Michael. I'm not sure time is on your side. At any rate... adios. I'll send you the bill.