So you’re the infamous Manal al-Sharif,” he said, eyeing me from behind his desk. “Aren’t you ashamed of what you did?”“Is driving a car something shameful?” I answered back.

She took my papers, the papers that had followed me from the Khobar police station to jail, and pointed at a place where I was supposed to sign. On the paper there was a line for charges. In the blank space, someone had written “driving while female.

How beautiful it is to live in a world with no walls.

We were like captive animals that had lost the will to fight. We even went so far as to defend the very constraints that they hadimposed upon us.