You’re gutless. It’s how you were made. And that’s not such a bad thing because your saving grace is that you’ve never lied to yourself about it. Not about that. Nothing wrong with cowardice as long as it comes with prudence. But when a coward stops remembering who he is God help him.
KHALED HOSSEINIA story is like a moving train: no matter where you hop onboard, you are bound to reach your destination sooner or later.
More Khaled Hosseini Quotes
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I should have been more kind. That is something a person will never regret. You will never say to yourself when you are old, Ah, I wish I was not good to that person. You will never think that.
KHALED HOSSEINI -
A man’s heart is a wretched, wretched thing. It isn’t like a mother’s womb. It won’t bleed. It won’t stretch to make room for you.
KHALED HOSSEINI -
Behind every trial and sorrow that He makes us shoulder, God has a reason.
KHALED HOSSEINI -
Writing fiction is the act of weaving a series of lies to arrive at a greater truth.
KHALED HOSSEINI -
Hills that stand soft and a sky that stands high and blue, and the sun setting behind a windmill, and always, always, hazy strings of mountains that fall and fall away on the horizon.
KHALED HOSSEINI -
There was so much goodness in my life. So much happiness. I wondered whether I deserved any of it.
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It always hurts more to have and lose than to not have in the first place.
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As far as I know, he never asked where she had been or why she had left and she never told. I guess some stories do not need telling.
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She was the trembler of knees, the spiller of teacups.
KHALED HOSSEINI -
A sudden happiness catches me unawares. I feel it trickling into me, and my eyes go liquid with gratitude and hope.
KHALED HOSSEINI -
I suspect the truth is that we are waiting, all of us, against insurmountable odds, for something extraordinary to happen to us.
KHALED HOSSEINI -
Everyone is an ocean inside. Every individual walking the street. Everyone is a universe of thoughts, and insights, and feelings. But every person is crippled in his or her own way by our inability to truly present ourselves to the world.
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Not a word passes between us, not because we have nothing to say, but because we don’t have to say anything
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It was the kind of love that, sooner or later, cornered you into a choice: either you tore free or you stayed and withstood its rigor even as it squeezed you into something smaller than yourself.
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A man’s heart is a wretched, wretched thing. It isn’t like a mother’s womb. It won’t bleed. It won’t stretch to make room for you.
KHALED HOSSEINI