“...but I preferred reading the American landscape as we went along. Every bump, rise, and stretch in it mystified my longing.”

“I spent much of my prison time reading. I must have read over 200 large books, mostly fictional stories about the American pioneers, the Vikings, Mafia, etc. As long as I was engrossed in a book, I was not in prison. Reading was my escape.”

“I took my schedule, my map, and my abject horror and made my way to class, reading it again and again as I went. Unfortunately it stayed the same every time.”

“Colored, Negro, Afro-American, African American. ... Every couple of years someone came up with something that got us an inch closer to the truth. Bit by bit we crept along. As if that thing we believed to be approaching actually existed.”

“Life is just what it is - a long road trip that sometimes has bumps and sometimes doesn't. Either way, you just gotta keep rollin' along.”

“Something must always remain that eludes us ... For power to have an object on which it can be exercised, a space in which to stretch out its arms ... As long as I know there exists in the world someone who does tricks only for the love of the trick, as long as I know there is a woman who loves reading for reading's sake, I can convince myself that the world continues ... And every evening I, too, abandon myself to reading, like that distant unknown woman ....”