I think this is the saddest book I've ever read in my life.

I wonder if the FBI informants who infiltrated the Black Panthers ever look back on their actions and wonder if they'd made an awful, awful mistake? That they sacrificed not just their brothers and sisters, but an entire world with more sustenance, joy, and love than a $350 payout from the people who'd subjugated you in the first place.

What conditions of desperation must you be in to destroy the very organisation that could have set you free?

I'm not even angry. I'm just crushed. I can't bear this world that we live in.