“For some reason, no one wants to admit that the grace of the new birth is irresistible. But our first births are just as irresistible, and virtually no one complains about that. I was born in 1953, and I do not recall ever being consulted in 1952 about whether I wanted to be born or not. Life was simply thrust upon me, somewhat violently they tell me, and first thing I knew, I was playing with toy trucks on the floor of this family’s living room. The name was Wilson, they said, and the prison door clanged shut. That whole business was irresistible—it makes your skin crawl to think of it. I was now somebody’s brother, not someone’s sister, and I hadn’t been asked about my preferences there, either. I was an American, not an Englishman. I was a Wilson, not a Williams or Smith. In short, there was a good bit of tyranny all around.”
The Cultural Mind, p. 282