The first fruit of this imagination - and the first lesson of the social science that embodies it - is the idea that the individual can understand his own experience and gauge his own fate only by locating himself within his period, that he can know his own chances in life only by becoming aware of those of all individuals in his circumstances.
Every murder has a story. Every killer has a reason.
We are all exiles in some way, searching for a home that may not exist.
In the end, we are all just stories waiting to be told.