What's the use of living of life doing things without consequences when you can't remember it and even your emotions are programmed?

I was disquieted over how we're supposed to have warm feelings for the guy who annually programs a random Doll to replicate his wife's joy in his accomplishment, with the obvious happy ending suggested by the rose petal-strewn bed. (Though I did love "Rebecca" Echo seeing that bed on her way out and yelling, "It is a porn!!!"

I called Mellie for an Active the moment she first opened her mouth. She was too much of an adoring doormat.