From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were–I have not seen
As others saw–I could not bring
My passions from a common spring–
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow–I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone–
And all I loved–I loved alone–
A former CIA deep-cover agent turns whistleblower at great risk.
His shocking allegations expose powerful names controlling the
international drug trade in very high places.
Many of her strongest admirers questioned whether she could write a salable book on such a dreary subject. She shared their doubts, but she went ahead because she had to. “There would be no peace for me,” she wrote to a friend, “if I kept silent.”
“There is no doubt,” he said quietly, “that there is some enormous organisation determining what is said by this court. In my case this includes my arrest and the examination taking place here today, an organisation that employs policemen who can be bribed, oafish supervisors and judges of whom nothing better can be said than that they are not as arrogant as some others. This organisation even maintains a high-level judiciary along with its train of countless servants, scribes, policemen and all the other assistance that it needs, perhaps even executioners and torturers I’m not afraid of using those words. And what, gentlemen, is the purpose of this enormous organisation? Its purpose is to arrest innocent people and wage pointless prosecutions against them which, as in my case, lead to no result…”
“Yes, but he doesn’t have much strength of character. He can easily be influenced to do good, but also to do bad. I hope for his sake that he stays good, because he’s basically a good person.”