“I’m still learning, I’m still finding stuff that fascinates me. I’m still putting people out front who I call the “unsung””

“I’m lost. I know every step I took to get here, and I’m still lost.”

“Remember that I’m still a monster. I can listen to you scream and cry and beg and I still won’t let you out.”

“I’m still afraid of being totally honest. I’m more afraid of this than dying.”

“Absolutely, because during sex, I’m just going to run a filmstrip. I’m still masturbating.”

“But who has time to write memoirs? I’m still living my memoirs.”

““I still got all my limbs and I’m still breathing.”
“Makes you a winner in the soldiering game.””

“I’m still spry, but I feel the teeth gnawing, and believe me, my friends, it was better to be young.”

“Now I’m up at the front and Tall Bloke, Long Suit, is still Sieg-Heiling; women are still jiggling and beseeching. There is an unspoken acknowledgment that I am an interloper, that I am unlike everybody else there, neither Eritreanh or Ethiopian, and that there is a risk, therefore, that I am there to mock or judge or disrupt, and I’m capable of all those things.”

“I’m me, and at the same time not me. That’s what it felt like. A very still, quiet feeling.”