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Ahhhh, Pacino. How about one from my favorite movie of his (Heat)
I'm angry. I'm very angry, Ralph. You know, you can ball my wife if she wants you to. You can lounge around here on her sofa, in her ex-husband's dead-tech, post-modernistic bullshit house if you want to. But you do not get to watch my fucking television set!
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But you have to be present like a normal guy some of the time. That's sharing. This is not sharing, this is leftovers.
Alright, so what I should do is, uhm, come home and say "Hi Honey, guess what? I walked into this house today where this junkie asshole just fried his baby in a microwave because it was crying too loud, so let me share that with you."
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