The struggle of man against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting.

The year most of my high school friends and I got our driver's permits, the coolest thing one could do was stand outside after school and twirl one's car keys like a lifeguard whistle. That jingling sound meant freedom and power.

Power should not be concentrated in the hands of so few, and powerlessness in the hands of so many.

It's easy to dislike the few senior women out there. What if women were half the positions in power? It would be harder to dislike all of them.

Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty power is ever stealing from the many to the few.