"I have sought a paradise in this life, from the window of a train traversing a starkly beautiful land where a man's skin is still criminalized and a woman's body enslaved, where workers are thrown away like coal slag."
"But now that it was here, knowing that all it had taken was a flick of Lem Brand's wrist, Rye felt demoralized. It didn't matter what he did, what Gurley did, what Fred Moore did, what any of them did. Somewhere there was a room of wealthy old men where everything was decided. Beliefs and convictions, lives and livelihoods, right and wrong - these had no place in that room, the scurrying of ants at the feet of a few rich men."
From The Cold Millions, by Jess Walter
The title The Cold Millions refers to those millions of us who are not rich.
Sounds about right to me.
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