Without You, There Is No Us: My Time with the Sons of North Korea's Elite

by Suki Kim

Some experiences are like that. You live through them, and yet you aren’t quite there.

since. When you lose your home at a young age, you spend your life looking for its replacement.

Separation haunts the affected long after the actual incident. It is a perpetual act of violation.

The loss is remembered, and remembered, like an illness, a heartbreak from which there is no healing, and you are left to wonder what happened to the life you were supposed to have together.

Sometimes the longer you are inside a prison, the harder it is to fathom what is possible beyond its walls.

But I was a writer. I believed in words, even if they only masked the uncertainty of time passing.

We need to feel needed. We love the ones who want us.