resident Marjorie Bota: Andrew Martin
Andrew Martin: I've always tried to make sense of things. There must be some reason I am as I am. As you can see, Madame Chairman, I am no longer immortal.
President Marjorie Bota: You have arranged to die?
Andrew Martin: In a sense I have. I am growing old, my body is deteriorating, and like all of you, will eventually cease to function. As a robot, I could have lived forever. But I tell you all today, I would rather die a man, than live for all eternity a machine.
President Marjorie Bota: Why do you want this?
Andrew Martin: To be acknowledged for who and what I am, no more, no less. Not for acclaim, not for approval, but, the simple truth of that recognition. This has been the elemental drive of my existence, and it must be achieved, if I am to live or die with dignity.
President Marjorie Bota: Mister Martin, what you are asking for is extremely complex and controversial. It will not be an easy decision. I must ask for your patience while I take the necessary time to make a determination of this extremely delicate matter.
Andrew Martin: And I await your decision, Madame Chairman, thank-you for your patience.
[turns to Portia and whispers]
Andrew Martin: I tried.
-I'm not about to invest my emotions in a machine.
- I think personality is much more important than intelligence, don't you?
-Andrew Martin: What a piece of fecal matter.
Rupert Burns: Shit.
Andrew Martin: Excuse me?
Rupert Burns: What a piece of shit.
Andrew Martin: I know that.
Rupert Burns: No, that's what you say when you're frustrated. You say, "piece of shit."
Andrew Martin: "Piece of shit"?
Rupert Burns: Yes, but with feeling.
Andrew Martin: Oh. What a piece of shit.
Rupert Burns: More.
Andrew Martin: What a piece of shit!
