#p. 15

Let me tell you something about being brown like me: your story is already written for you. Your free will, your love, your failure, all of it scratched into the cosmos before you're even born. My mother calls it fate, the story written on your head by the stars, by the gods, never by you. Everyone is watching you, all the time, praising you when you abide by your directives, waiting until you screw up. And you will screw up.

Ele vai ser famoso, uma lenda. Eu não me surpreenderia se o dia de hoje ficasse conhecido no futuro como o dia de Harry Potter. Vão escrever livros sobre Harry. Todas as crianças no nosso mundo vão conhecer o nome dele!

“Okay, so I went into clinic this morning, and I was telling my surgeon that I’d rather be deaf than blind. And he said, ‘It doesn’t work that way,’ and I was, like, ‘Yeah, I realize it doesn’t work that way; I’m just saying I’d rather be deaf than blind if I had the choice, which I realize I don’t have,’ and he said, ‘Well, the good news is that you won’t be deaf,’ and I was like, ‘Thank you for explaining that my eye cancer isn’t going to make me deaf. I feel so fortunate that an intellectual giant like yourself would deign to operate on me.’”