“The people one loves should take all their things with them when they die.”

The only everyday and eternal reality was love.

A man knows when he is growing old because he begins to look like his father.

Why were you so old when we met? I answered with the truth: Age isn’t how old you are but how old you feel.

opened the door a crack wide enough for the entire world to pass through .

It’s enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment.

Even when the winds of misfortune blow, amazing things can still happen.

For they had lived together long enough to know that love was always love, anytime and anyplace, but it was more solid the closer it came to death.

Take advantage of it now, while you are young, and suffer all you can, because these things don’t last your whole life.

She likes to try everything, out of curiosity, but she’ll be sorry if she isn’t guided by her heart.

Just imagine, a cow on the balcony of the nation, what an awful thing, what a shitty country.

Nobody deserves your tears, but whoever deserves them will not make you cry.

The more transparent the writing, the more visible the poetry.

Inspiration gives no warnings.

He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.

You have to have spent the night at sea, sitting in a life raft and looking at your watch, to know that the night is immeasurably longer than the day.

It had to teach her to think of love as a state of grace: not the means to anything but the alpha and omega, an end it itself.

Nothing separates a woman or a family from God’s love. Not death, and certainly not divorce.

What can you do with me? My jannah is in my heart! If you take me to jail, I will make zikr of Allah. If you exile me out of my land, I will make takaffur. If you execute me, I would be a shaheed. What can you do with me? Because I am not limited to this dunya. I am living for al-akhira!

He who has calmly reconciled his life to fate, and set proud death beneath his feet, can look fortune in the face, unbending both to good and bad; his countenance unconquered.

Think not I dread to see my spirit fly, Through the dark gates of fell mortality; Death has no terrors when the life is true; ‘Tis living ill that makes us fear to die.

If you look around, you can find a face of God in each thing, because He is not hidden in a church, in a mosque, or a synagogue, but everywhere. As there is no one who lives after seeing him, there is also no one dying after seeing him. Who finds Him, stays forever with him.

And no renown can render you well-known: For if you think that fame can lengthen life By mortal famousness immortalized, The day will come that takes your fame as well, And there a second death for you awaits.

What can my enemies do to me? My paradise is in my heart, it is with me wherever I go. To imprison me is to provide me with seclusion. To send me into exile is to send me away in the Path of Allah. And to kill me is to make me a martyr.

And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky, Whereunder crawling cooped we live and die, Lift not your hands to It for help-for it As impotently moves as you or I