[T]he army of wrongness rampant in the world might as well march over me.

In this line Capote frames moral and social disorder as a conquering “army,” suggesting that wrongdoing is not merely occasional but organized, pervasive, and unstoppable. The speaker’s willingness to be “marched over” reads as a bitter, defensive surrender: if the world is already dominated by “wrongness,” resistance can feel futile, even self-destructive. The phrasing also implies a heightened sensitivity to injustice—Capote’s characteristic mix of theatrical metaphor and emotional extremity—where the pressure of living amid hypocrisy or cruelty becomes physically overwhelming. The quote’s force lies in its dramatization of ethical exhaustion: the sense that one’s private integrity is no match for public corruption.