بریده‌ای از کتاب Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books اثر آذر نفیسی

while we were enjoying our coffee and pastries, Mitra began to tell us how she felt as she climbed up the stairs every Thursday morning. She said that step by step she could feel herself gradually leaving reality behind her, leaving the dark, dank cell she lived in to surface for a few hours into open air and sunshine.