" As I spoke, something shifted in me. The feeling rose that this woman, if she were to deem the pigeon unworthy, would also be judging me, and Khalto Tala, and the widow Haddad. It was an absurd thing, there there it was. A second sense came on its heels, something I had never felt before and which frightened me: the sense that I could not convince this American woman, whose judgements dictated my livelihood, of the value of things and people I cared a great deal about. "

― Zeyn Joukhadar , The Thirty Names of Night