“I kept traveling down the road. And everywhere it was the same. What was my name, who were my people? What was I supposed to say? That my father is the president, and my mother is his slave?”

“What more can anyone take from me?" said my father, his head bent down. "Everywhere I go I carry my hell with me.”

“The child who refuses to travel in the father's harness, this is the symbol of man's most unique capability. "I do not have to be what my father was. I do not have to obey my father's rules or even believe everything he believed. It is my strength as a human that I can make my own choices of what to believe and what not to believe, of what to be and what not to be.”

“Say my name and his in the same breath. I dare you to say they taste the same.”

“You see, I never knew what I wanted to be -- I still don;t know. All I knew was that I was supposed to get married and have babies just like my mother did and my sisters did. I wanted to do that. I met your father and I was his wife, that is who I was. Then I had my children. And then I was a mother. That's who I was. A wife and a mother but I don't know if I was or if I am of any real value. You and the boys are all grown up, so what I am now?”

“What the hell was that supposed to mean anyway? I'm yours. My what? My slave, my guardian angel, my own personal pain in the ass?”