This was a question I asked myself day and  night. We can't all leave this country. Bijan had told me - this is our home. The world is a large place, my magician had said when I went to him with my woes. You can write and teach wherever you are. You will be read more and heard better, in fact, once you are over there. To go or no to go? In the long run, it's all very personal, my magician reasoned. I always admired your former colleague's honesty, he said. Which former colleague? Dr. A, the one who said his only reason for leaving was because he liked to drink beer freely. I am getting sick of people who cloak their personal flaws and desires in the guise of patriotic fervor. They stay because they have no means of living anywhere else, because if they leave, they won't be the big shots they are over here; but they talk about sacrifice for the homeland. And then those who do leave claim they've gone in order to criticize and expose the regime. Why all these justifications?

Izlasījusi grāmatu par Irānu, iegūglēju (neesmu īpaši zinoša vēsturiskos un ģeogrāfiskos jautājumos) cerībā, ka tur tagad vairs nav Islāma republika, un ļoti noskumu uzzinājusi, ka tomēr ir gan.

Vienmēr, kad es uzzinu, ka kaut kur pasaulē kas šāds joprojām eksistē, pārņem kaut kāda bērnišķīga dusmu un bezspēcības izjūta, un savā ziņā kļūst arī diezgan bailīgi, jo Irānas piemērs, kaut arī kopējā situācija tur ir ļoti atšķirīga, rāda, ka tas, ka kāda valsts ir salīdzinoši progresīva, tomēr nenozīmē, ka vienā dienā viss nevarvarētu kļūt ļoti, ļoti slikti.