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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 blocks of concrete, my lungs empty of air, my throat burning. There will be no floating away.

Khaled Hosseini

And every day I thank [God] that I am alive, not because I fear death, but because my wife has a husband and my son is not an orphan.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Alive Deep Family God Gratitude Husband Myself Son Thankful Wife
I finally had what I’d wanted all those years. Except now that I had it, i felt as empty as this unkempt pool I was dangling my legs into.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Empty Gratitude Legs Loss Missing Myself
I think novelists, when they write their books, end up having occasionally serving a purpose and playing roles that they never really fully either intended or even understood.
KHALED HOSSEINI

End Novel Play Purpose Role Thinking Understand Writing
Behind every trial and sorrow that He makes us shoulder, God has a reason.
KHALED HOSSEINI

God Himself Reason Sorrow
And every day I thank [God] that I am alive, not because I fear death, but because my wife has a husband and my son is not an orphan.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Alive Deep Family God Gratitude Husband Myself Son Thankful Wife
He said that if culture is a house, then language was the key to the front door; to all the rooms inside. Without it, he said, you ended up wayward, without a proper home or a legitimate identity.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Culture End Home Identity Key Language Legal Room Yourself
There is a way to be good again.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Again Goodness One Liner Way
Like a compass needle that points north, a man’s accusing finger always finds a woman. Always.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Fingers Man Oppression Woman
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.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Choice Freedom Kind Love Small Stay Yourself
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.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Ability Feeling Ocean Ourselves Path Person Present Thinking True Universe Walk World
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 HOSSEINI

Bad Coward God Grace Help Lying Remember Save Wrong Yourself
Life just doesn’t care about our aspirations, or sadness. It’s often random, and it’s often stupid and it’s often completely unexpected, and the closures and the epiphanies and revelations we end up receiving from life, begrudgingly, rarely turn out to be the ones we thought.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Aspiration Care Expectation Life Oneself Sad Stupidity
It always hurts more to have and lose than to not have in the first place.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Hurt Lose Place Wisdom
People say that eyes are windows to the soul.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Eyes People Soul Window
War doesn’t negate decency. It demands it, even more than in times of peace.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Demand Peace Time War
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

Bleed Heart Man Mom Room Yourself

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 blocks of concrete, my lungs empty of air, my throat burning. There will be no floating away.

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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 blocks of concrete, my lungs empty of air, my throat burning. There will be no floating away.

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Popular Authors

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