I felt compelled to blow the whistle on the penal system, under the delusion that doing so might result in some change, or at least save a few women from the same fate. Eternally naïve, that's me.

I had a naïve idea that if I could tell the story, people would be outraged and do something about conditions in the jails.

Although I was simply what today would be called a "mule" - the bottom of the food chain in the drug biz - the federal system treated me from beginning to end like a major criminal, and I still don't know why, other than that in those days, 6.5 ounces of heroin was a big load. Ludicrous by today's standards, when coke, heroin, and weed are shipped across the border by the ton.

I don't believe anyone can go through the prison experience without being changed by it. The experience becomes part of your identity forever.

I was addicted to amphetamines at the time I got busted, but I tend to think I was on a determined, self-destruct course that had little to do with the effect of Benzedrine.

I couldn't stand living in a society that admires the emperor's new clothes, when I see so clearly that he is naked.

People think I'm educated because I talk and write well, but the fact is I never finished high school. I've read a lot, is all.