His autobiography even opens with a parable: as a small child he threw his favorite squirtgun off a third-floor balcony rather than accept that his mother could lend out what was his, and felt complete when he heard it hit the pavement.

web.archive.org/web/20010309014808/http://sysopmind.com/eliezer.html

I remember getting a new squirtgun, of translucent blue plastic, which squirted better than any squirtgun I'd had so far. And within around an hour, for some reason or other - I don't think it was related to abuse of the squirtgun, but I'm not sure - my mother decided to take it away. So I rushed out the back door and threw it off the third-floor balcony, and listened to it shatter on the concrete below.

I knew, as I threw it, that Mom would think it had been a childish act - "Cutting off your nose to spite your face," was what my parents used to say. But that's not what it was. Grownups who have forgotten their childhood may lend a toy to a particular child, and not lend it to anyone else, but they don't credit children with enough "agenthood" to really own something. Rather than let my parents say, in essence, that this toy - which had been given to me, and which I really enjoyed - was theirs to lend or withhold, I threw the toy off the balcony and accepted the consequences of not being able to play with it any more. Not because I didn't want them to have the toy, but because it was a wonderful toy, the best squirtgun I'd ever had; that's why I cared enough that I threw it off the balcony rather than let it be something for my parents to give or take away. When I heard the squirtgun shatter, I didn't feel angry, or regretful, or look-what-you-made-me-do. I felt complete. I'd done what I'd set out to do, and I was willing to accept losing a squirtgun in order to do it. Children can also act on principle.

Huh, I forgot about that, he's more like our president than I realized