I had always thought that freedom was the power to understand what I could and live by it—to talk myself into things. It seemed to me now that freedom was the strength and the space to follow what moved me. What I had to reconcile myself to was being subject to my emotion, which I would always be striving to comprehend. What better way could there be to live? To be in constant motion toward something perfect, a motion that would carry you to the end of your life?
