Refuse to be converted. This above everything. The Inquisitor can survive your anger. He can survive your protest, your march, your sharply worded op-ed. What he cannot survive is a person who has heard his entire case, understood it, felt the pull of it—the bread is warm, the spectacle is beautiful, the authority is so confident—and said, no. I’ll carry the weight myself. I’ll stumble. I’ll get it wrong. But I will not hand this over, because the handing-over is the thing that kills me, even if I’m still walking around afterward.