“They decided our culture was too cluttered. They created commissions to choose the hundred best of everything: Hundred Songs, Hundred Paintings, the rest were eliminated. How can we appreciate anything fully when overwhelmed with too much?”
“You think there’s nothing here because we’re not putting up a fight. But there are words in our heads that no one else knows. And my grandfather died on his terms, not yours. We have things of value but you can never find them because you don’t even know how to look.”
“They control the food, they control us. Some people know how to grow food, some know how to process it, others know how to cook it. But none of us know how to do it all. We could never survive on our own.”
“I think of him risking everything each time he slips one napkin into his pocket. All these years he’s been so careful, but now he’s willing to take a chance. Because he’s found someone who wants to know. Someone he wants to tell.”
“I think people should be able to choose who they Match with,” I say lamely.
“Where would it end, Cassia?” she says, her voice patient. “Would you say next that people should be able to choose how many children they have, and where they want to live? Or when they want to die?”