Past quixotic failures haunted me. I couldn’t count how many
times I’d followed my heart off a cliff, for men, for causes, for friendship, for
colleagues, for stray animals. Human rights projects I’d worked on had broken
down in petty personal politics and bureaucratic red tape, or led to everyone
on the project being severely hacked.
Smaller efforts were no more successful. I’d tried to bottle-feed abandoned
kittens, and once a premature puppy, only to see them die. I was no good at doing good....
