Mary: Dick, please. Can't we go to my place? Wouldn't a hot shower be nice?
Dick: I need no warmth. The cold is like an old friend. I was born for the tundra.
Mary: Okay, let's get right to it. You stink. You need to wash.
Dick: Showers are the opiate of the fragrant, Mary. I'm a squatter, and I'm proud to be so. Besides, as soon as I go, Dubcek's gonna padlock the door.