Change is one thing. Acceptance is another.
Either way, change will come. It could be bloody, or it could be beautiful. It depends on us.
Writers imagine that they cull stories from the world. I'm beginning to believe that vanity makes them think so. That it's actually the other way around. Stories cull writers from the world. Stories r...
Humans are animals of habit.
When you say things like, 'We have to wipe out the Taliban,' what does that mean? The Taliban is not a fixed number of people. The Taliban is an ideology that has sprung out of a history that, you kno...
Sometimes I think the world is divided into those who have a comfortable relationship with power and those who have a naturally adversarial relationship with power.
Madness slunk in through a chink in History. It only took a moment.
It is true that success is the most boring thing, it is tinny and brittle, failure runs deeper. Success is dangerous. I have a very complicated relationship with that word.
Her grief grieved her. His devastated her.
And there it was again. Another religion turned against itself. Another edifice constructed by the human mind, decimated by human nature.
Ammu loved her children (of course), but their wide-eyed vulnerability and their willingness to love people who didn't really love them exasperated her and sometimes made her want to hurt them-- just...
Some things come with their own punishments.
It is curious how sometimes the memory of death lives on for so much longer than the memory of the life that is purloined.
He could do only one thing at a time. If he held her, he couldn't kiss her. If he kissed her, he couldn't see her. If he saw her, he couldn't feel her.
The way her body existed only where he touched her. The rest of her was smoke.
Perhaps it’s true that things can change in a day. That a few dozen hours can affect the outcome of whole lifetimes. And that when they do, those few dozen hours, like the salvaged remains of a burned...
Insanity hovered close at hand, like an eager waiter at an expensive restaurant.
Heaven opened and the water hammered down, reviving the reluctant old well, greenmossing the pigless pigsty, carpet bombing still, tea-colored puddles the way memory bombs still, tea-colored minds.
Ammu said that human beings were creatures of habit, and it was amazing the kind of things one could get used to.
This was the trouble with families. Like invidious doctors, they knew just where it hurt.