“The war was still on in January 1945. In their dismay at my being shipped off in the dead of winter to who knows where in Russia, everyone wanted to give me something that might be of use, even if it couldn't be help. Because nothing in the world could possible help.”

“Mother used to say it meant Christopher was a nice name because it was a story about being kind and helpful, but I do not want my name to mean a story about being kind and helpful. I want my name to mean me.”

“Never ask an elf for help; they might decide your better off dead, eh?”

“Punk Rock (while still sacred to some) is, to me, dead and gone. We just wanted to pay tribute to something that helped us to feel as though we had crawled out of the dung heap of conformity.”

“I wish I could tell my parents, " If you want to help me, help me die.”

“Please give me something
because someday I might know my heart.”

“Anyone who wants to help me doesn't. Anyone who wants to kill me might. Anyone who wants to love me better not.”

“Nothing can silence me as long as I am alive. I don’t give any kind of excuse. If I cannot come out [of China] or I cannot go in [to China] this is not going to change my belief. But when I am there, I am in this condition: I see it, I see people who need help. Then you know, I just want to offer my possibility to help them.”

“In a way, it made him sad. He couldn't help but think that a hundred times zero was still nothing.”

“Couldn't help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land, where justice is a game.”