I asked him about his enemies. He began to count them. The list went on and on...." - Conversations with Yahya Kemal
We don't need more museums that try to construct the historical narratives of a society, community, team, nation, state, tribe, company, or species. We all know that the ordinary, everyday stories of...
Those who can truly see, know.
The real question is how much suffering we've caused our womenfolk by turning headscarves into symbols - and using women as pawns in a political game.
I hear the question upon your lips: What is it to be a colour?Colour is the touch of the eye, music to the deaf, a word out of the darkness. Because I’ve listened to souls whispering – like the susurr...
Where there is a true art and genuine virtuosity the artist can paint an incomparable masterpiece without leaving even a trace of his identity.
Painting is the silence of thought and the music of sight.
They, like me, like all of us, had, once upon a time, in a past so far away it seemed like heaven, caught by chance a glimpse of an inner essence, only to forget what it was. It was this lost memory t...
Herkes bilsin, çok mutlu bir hayat yaşadım.
Books, which we mistake for consolation, only add depth to our sorrow.
Love is good for the skin.
Let everyone know, I lived a very happy life.
I don't much care whether rural Anatolians or Istanbul secularists take power. I'm not close to any of them. What I care about is respect for the individual.
There's a lot of pride involved in my refusal to believe in god.
She looked out the window; in her eyes was the light that you see only in children arriving at a new place, or in young people still open to new influences, still curious about the world because they...
People only tell lies when there is something they are terribly frightened of losing.
It's such a shame that we know so little about our own country, that we can't find it in our hearts to love our own kind. Instead we admire those who show our country disrespect and betray its people.
It's important, no doubt, to understand the person we love. If we cannot manage this, it's necessary, at least, to believe we understand them. I must confess that over the entire eight years I only ra...
I don't want to be a tree; I want to be its meaning.
The power of things inheres in the memories they gather up inside them, and also in the vicissitudes of our imagination, and our memory — of this there is no doubt.