Regret, I was once told, means to weep again. My first thought, when I heard this: That’s what it is to tell a story.
In fiction, you can feel good about resistance without actually resisting anything.
The satisfaction people take in free will comes not from their ability to choose, but from their ability to feel like they’ve chosen.
In my family, race itself did not exist. If I wanted to be real, I could not experience what was not real.
If the world responds to our silence and not to our love, then it teaches us that silence is a condition of our development.