Not a word passes between us, not because we have nothing to say, but because we don't have to say anything - that is how, it is between people who are each other's first memories
Maman had been a gifted writer. Pari has read every word Maman had written in French and every poem she had translated from Farsi as well. The power and beauty of her writing was undeniable. But if th...
It’s a dangerous business, making promises to kids.
In the parlance of economics, Julien has said to Pari that if she cut off the supply of attention, perhaps the demands for it would cease as well.
If I ever do get married, Tariq said, they'll have to make room for three on the wedding stage. Me, the bride, and the guy holding the gun to my head
I'm sorry, Laila says, marveling at how every Afghan story is marked by death and loss and unimaginable grief. And yet, she sees, people find a way to survive, to go on.
I wished I could open my veins and drain his cursed blood from my body.
I want to tear myself from this place, from this reality, rise up like a cloud and float away, melt into this humid summer night and dissolve somewhere far, over the hills. But I am here, my legs bloc...
I see America has infused you with the optimism that has made her so great
I don't know what this feather means, the story of it, but I know it means he was thinking of me. For all these years. He remembered me.
I didn't want her turned, against both her will and nature, into those diligent, sad women who are bent on a lifelong course of quiet servitude, forever in fear of showing, saying, or doing the wrong...
God has granted you a special talent. It's now your duty to hone that talent, because a person who wastes his God-given talents is a donkey.
For you, a thousand times over. Then I turned and ran. It was only a smile, nothing more. It didn't make everything alright. It didn't make anything all right. Only a smile. A tiny thing. But I'll tak...
Entering my childhood home is a little disorienting, like reading the end of a novel that I’d started, then abandoned, long ago.
But, miraculously, something of her former life remained, her last link to the person she had been before she had become so utterly alone. A part of Tariq still alive inside her, sprouting tiny arms,...
Bir başkasının yüreğini, yüreğinden geçenleri yargılarken, kişi bir miktar da olsa alçakgönüllülükten ve yardımseverlikten nasibini almış olmalı.
Attention shifted to him like sunflowers turning to the sun.
At last, she makes her choice. She turns around, drops her head, and walks toward a horizon she cannot see. After that, she does not look back anymore. She knows that if she does, she will weaken.
And suddenly, just like that, hope became knowledge. I was going to win. It was just a matter of when.
A stubborn ass needs a stubborn driver