A story is like a moving train: no matter where you hop onboard, you are bound to reach your destination sooner or later.
KHALED HOSSEINIPerhaps this is just punishment for those who have been heartless, to understand only when nothing can be undone.
More Khaled Hosseini Quotes
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But then it passed, as all things do.
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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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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.
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Behind every trial and sorrow that He makes us shoulder, God has a reason.
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It always hurts more to have and lose than to not have in the first place.
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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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Quiet is peace. Tranquility. Quiet is turning down the volume knob on life. Silence is pushing the off button. Shutting it down. All of it.
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War doesn’t negate decency. It demands it, even more than in times of peace.
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You can not stop you from being who you are.
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It’s wrong what they say about the past, I’ve learned, about how you can bury it. Because the past claws its way out.
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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.
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One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.
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And that, is the story of our country, one invasion after another Macedonians. Saddanians. Arabs. Mongols. Now the Soviets. But we’re like those walls up there. Battered, and nothing pretty to look at, but still standing.
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Years later, I learned an English word for the creature that Assef was, a word for which a good Farsi equivalent does not exist: sociopath.
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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