LA: You want answers?
The World: We think we’re entitled to them.
LA: You want answers?
The World: We want the truth!
LA: You can't handle the truth! Folks, we live in a world that craves a good story. And those stories have to be provided by people with chutzpah. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Paul Kimmage? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Basson and you curse my teams. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that Basson’s demise as a cyclist, while tragic, made it possible for the show to go on. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, made the show more successful than it had ever been before...You don't want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you wanted me to win. You needed me to win.
We use words like omerta, code, loyalty...we use these words as the backbone to a life spent creating a myth. You use 'em as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to people who clamored after the heroic stories that I provided, then question the manner in which I provided them! I'd rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you get on your bike and win some races. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to!
The World: Did you cheat to win?
LA: (quietly) I did the job you sent me to do.
The World: Did you cheat to win?
LA: You're goddamn right I did!!