Why, Mr. Anderson? Why, why? Why do you do it? Why, why get up? Why keep fighting? Do you believe you're fighting... for something? For more than your survival? Can you tell me what it is? Do you even know? Is it freedom? Or truth? Perhaps peace? Could it be for love? Illusions, Mr. Anderson. Vagaries of perception. Temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose. And all of them as artificial as the Matrix itself, although... only a human mind could invent something as insipid as love. You must be able to see it, Mr. Anderson. You must know it by now. You can't win. It's pointless to keep fighting. Why, Mr. Anderson? Why? Why do you persist?

Because I choose to.
  
 „Gdy bój nad Bzurą wrzał,
               a wróg tysiącem dział,
               otoczył nas i bił.
               Nie straszna czołgów stal.
               Lecz straszny w sercu żal,
               Że nam zabrakło sił"
                              kpr Stanisław Jasiński uczestnik bitwy nad Bzurą, która rozpoczęła się 9 września 1939