The rabbit's not like us. It has no history books, no photographs, no knowledge of sorrow or regret. I mean, I'm sorry, Miss Pommeroy. Don't get me wrong. You know, I like rabbits and all. They're cute and they're horny. And if you're cute and you're horny, then you're probably happy that you don't know who you are or why you're even alive. You just wanna have sex as many times as possible before you die. I just don't see the point in crying over a dead rabbit, you know, who never even feared death to begin with.
