"I know who you are," she said. "You're my enemy. The true believer. The righteous man with the righteous mission. The one that jails people for read… - Ursula K. Le Guin

You have not thought things through,” he said. By his standards it was a brutal insult.

"There was a pretty prince of Troy named Paris. He and a Greek queen ran off together. Her husband called the other kings of Greece together, and they went to Troy, a great army in a thousand beaked ships, to get the woman back. Helen was her name." "What did they want her back for?" "Her husband's honor demanded it." "I should think his honor demanded that he divorce her and find himself a decent wife." "Lavinia, these people were Greeks."

A dark hand had let go its lifelong hold upon her heart. But she did not feel joy, as she had in the mountains. She put her head down in her arms and cried, and her cheeks were salt and wet. She cried for the waste of her years in bondage to a useless evil. She wept in pain, because she was free.
What she had begun to learn was the weight of liberty. Freedom is a heavy load, a great and strange burden for the spirit to undertake. It is not easy. It is not a gift given, but a choice made, and the choice may be a hard one. The road goes upward towards the light; but the laden traveler may never reach the end of it.