In Korea we say that if a person cannot close his eyes in death, it is because he hasn’t fulfilled something in this world.

I never knew freedom could be such a cruel and difficult thing. Until now, I had always thought that being free meant being able to wear jeans and watch whatever movies I wanted without worrying about being arrested. Now I realized that I had to think all the time – and it was exhausting. There were times when I wondered whether, if it wasn’t for the constant hunger, I would be better off in North Korea, where all my thinking and all my choices were taken care of for me.

It’s not easy to give up a worldview that is built into your bones and imprinted on your brain like the sound of your own father’s voice.

I couldn’t imagine it was possible for something so beautiful to exist in the same world as me.

Why does this person, who doesn’t even speak our language, care so much about us that he is willing to risk his life for us? It moved us both to tears. I said a silent prayer of thanks as we became a part of the night.

As North Koreans, we were innocent in a way that I cannot fully explain.

My mother had fought to hold on to her belief that she lived in a good country. She was shocked and saddened to realize how corrupt and pitiless North Korea had become. Now she was even more convinced that she couldn’t let her daughters grow up in such a place. We had to get out as soon as possible.

Reading was teaching me what it meant to be alive, to be human.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, I believed in a benevolent power guiding the universe, a loving force that somehow nudged us in the direction of good instead of evil. I believed that Jesus was part of that force, along with the Buddha, and all the spiritual beings that we called on in our moments of despair and need.

They need to control you through your emotions, making you a slave to the state by destroying your individuality, and your ability to react to situations based on your own experience of the world.