“The building itself is hostile: cracked plaster, broken windows, splintered doors and carved up desks, gloomy corridors, metal stairways, dingy cafeteria (they can eat sitting down only in 20 minute shifts) and an auditorium which has no windows. It does have murals, however, depicting mute, muscular harvesters, faded and immobilized under a mustard sun.That's where we had assembly this morning.”

“Through the doors of perception, down the corridors of uncertainty, and into the room of self doubt, opens the window of opportunity.”

“Don’t waste a minute not being happy. If one window closes, run to the next window—or break down a door.”

“Windows were broken. Where not broken they were boarded up, had been for years: the rust from nailheads had written long, sad farewells down the salt-silvered planks.”

“I felt that the decrepit state of these once magnificent buildings, with their broken gutters, walls blackened by rainwater, crumbling plaster revealing the coarse masonry beneath it, windows boarded up or clad with corrugated iron, precisely reflected my own state of mind...”

“One brick is not a wall. Unless you’re an ant, and then it’s not only a wall, it’s a building—a building that has no doors, windows, or people in the form of managers that I’d like to smash in the face with a building (or a brick).
”