“Like every experience that marks us for a lifetime, I found myself turned inside out, drawn and quartered. this was the sum of everything I'd been in my life--and more: who I am when I sing and stir-fry vegetables for my family and friends on Sunday afternoons; who I am when I wake up on freezing nights and want nothing more than to throw on a sweater, rush to my desk, and write about the person I know no one knows I am; who I am when I crave to be naked with another naked body, or when I crave to be alone in the world; who I am when every part of me seems miles and centuries apart and each swears it bears my name.”
“When I sleep every night,what am I called or not called?And when I wake, who am Iif I was not I while I slept?”
“When I walked down the streets, I asked myself, are these my people?, is this my hometown, am I who I am?”
“How can I expect readers to know who I am if I do not tell them about my family, my friends, the relationships in my life? Who am I if not where I fit in the world, where I fit in the lives of the people dear to me?”
“If I am not for myself, who will be for me? But if I am only for myself, who am I? If not now, when? ”
“When I had nothing to lose, I had everything. When I stopped being who I am, I found myself.”