Пролетая над гнездом кукушки

           Youdon’tloseyourtemperandshoutather;she’llwinbytryingtoplacateherbigol’angryboy:‘Isuswittlemangettingfussy?Ahhhhh?’Haveyouevertriedtokeepupanobleandangryfrontinthefaceofsuchconsolation?Soyousee,myfriend,itissomewhatasyoustated:manhasbutonetrulyeffectiveweaponagainstthejuggernautofmodernmatriarchy,butitcertainlyisnotlaughter.Oneweapon,andwitheverypassingyearinthiship,motivationallyresearchedsociety,moreandmorepeoplearediscoveringhowtorenderthatweaponuselessandconquerthosewhohavehithertobeentheconquerors—"

           "Lord,Harding,butyoudocomeon,"McMurphysays.

           "—anddoyouthink,forallyouracclaimedpsychopathicpowers,thatyoucouldeffectivelyuseyourweaponagainstourchampion?DoyouthinkyoucoulduseitagainstMissRatched,McMurphy?Ever?"

           Andsweepsoneofhishandstowardtheglasscase.Everybody’sheadturnstolook.She’sinthere,lookingoutthroughherwindow,gotataperecorderhidoutofsightsomewhere,gettingallthisdown—alreadyplanninghowtoworkitintotheschedule.

           Thenurseseeseverybodylookingatherandshenodsandtheyallturnaway.McMurphytakesoffhiscapandrunshishandsintothatredhair.Noweverybodyislookingathim;they’rewaitingforhimtomakeananswerandheknowsit.Hefeelshe’sbeentrappedsomeway.Heputsthecapbackonandrubsthestitchmarksonhisnose.

           "Why,ifyoumeandoIthinkIcouldgetaboneupoverthatoldbuzzard,no,Idon’tbelieveIcould...."