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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

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
Whether you do something or decide to do nothing, either way, you are making a moral choice. And I hope people make the right one.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Choice Decision Hope Moral Oneself People Right Yourself
I learned that the world didn’t see the inside of you, that it didn’t care a whit about the hopes and dreams, and sorrows, that lay masked by skin and bone. It was as simple, as absurd, and as cruel as that.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Bone Cruelty Dreams Hope Learning Mad Skin World
There is only one sin. and that is theft. When you tell a lie, you steal someones right to the truth.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Deep Lying Right Sin Theft Truth Wisdom
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
A man who has no conscience, no goodness, does not suffer.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Goodness Heart Man Soul Suffering
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

Goodness Kindness Myself Old Person Regret Thinking
I’ve read that if an avalanche buries you and you’re lying there underneath all that snow, you can’t tell which way is up or down. You want to dig yourself out but pick the wrong way, and you dig yourself to your own demise.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Bury Lying Reading Wrong Yourself
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
Nothing good came free. Even love. You paid for all things. And if you were poor, suffering was your currency.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Freedom Goodness Love Money Poor Price Suffering Yourself
Her impulse, her need, to be the corrector of injustices, warden of the downtrodden flock.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Herself Justice Need
But time, it is like charm. You never have as much as you think.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Charm Deep Thinking Time Wisdom Yourself
She was the trembler of knees, the spiller of teacups.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Beautiful Herself Power Tea
A story is like a moving train: no matter where you hop onboard, you are bound to reach your destination sooner or later.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Destination Reach Story Train Yourself
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
I have lived a long time, and one thing I have come to see is that one is well served by a degree of both humility and charity when judging the inner workings of another person’s heart.
KHALED HOSSEINI

Charity Heart Humility Judgement Live Person See Time Well

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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