“The man at the frontier has cigarette ashes all up and down his uniform, and a cigarette is established between his lips. He has not the remotest interest in the voyager, or his passport. Sometimes he forces himself to squint at both. Sometimes he looks at the baggage, sometimes not. Sometimes he stamps the passport; sometimes one has to ask him to stamp it. His office, were it not in France, would remind one of nothing so much as a cell in purgatory; and he and his confreres seem to feel that they are serving a sentence which they probably, after all, deserve.”
James Baldwin, “Tell Me When the Train’s Leaving”, 1968.
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