Life was all around her, but it was a life that belonged to others. And she looked at her own little straw and fire. (Chapter 2)

They were told that the louder they screamed, the greater their fervor and the firm the proof of their revolutionary spirit, of the hatred that they felt for the “exploiters,” the landowning class. (Chapter 2)

The sight of the house stirred something in me: a vision of a former life, my own, that of my parents, my friends, of my country; a past to which each of us is linked, inextricably, by the ties of blood and race. (Chapter 4)

‘It’s like the old proverb goes: A rich man loves to work, a poor man loves to eat. In the end, they were reduced to misery. (Chapter 5)

This past has poisoned life for her, taking with it all joy, all warmth, all maternal feeling, all the happiness the world might... (Chapter 5)