What really counted was the possibility of escape, a leap to freedom, out of the implacable ritual, a wild run for it that would give whatever chance for hope there was. Of course, hope meant being cut down on some street corner, as you ran like mad, by a random bullet. But when I really thought it through, nothing was going to allow me such a luxury. Everything was against it; I would just be caught up in the machinery again.

Morality, when formal, devours.

Rule: Start by looking for what is valid in every man.

I lived with the only continuity, day to day, of the me-me-me.

Liberty is the right not to lie.

Although it was the middle of winter, I finally realized that, within me, summer was inextinguishable.

Give up the tyranny of female charm.