Hassan and I were stunned. Dazed. John Wayne didn’t really speak Farsi.
They only make you so happy when they are about to take something from you.
She suddenly realizes that she may not know how to live without Masooma. She doesn’t know if she can. How will she bear the days when Masooma’s absence feels like a far heavier burden than her presence ever had? How will she learn to tread around the edges of the big gaping hole where Masooma had once been?
By the time we’re twenty, Hasina used to say, Giti and I, we’ll have pushed out four, five kids each. But you, Laila, you’ll make us two dummies proud. You’re going to be somebody. I know one day I’ll pick up a newspaper and find your picture on the front page.
Infilai la foto dove l’avevo trovata. Mi resi conto che quei pensieri non mi avevano ferito. Chiudendo la porta della stanza mi chiesi se quello fosse il modo in cui sboccia il perdono, non con le fanfare di una epifania, ma con il dolore che, nel cuore della notte, fa i bagagli e si allontana senza nemmeno avvisare.
Untukmu keseribu kalinya – Hassan si pengejar layang-layang berbibir sumbing.
Ke mana pun aku berpaling, aku melihat tanda-tanda kesetiaannya, kesetiaan tanpa syarat keparatnya.
Hanya ada satu macam dosa, hanya satu. Yaitu mencuri. Dosa-dosa yang lain adalah variasi dari dosa itu.
There is only one sin, only one, and that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft. When you kill a man, you steal a life. You steal his wife’s right of a husband, you rob his children of a father. When you lie you steal someone’s right to truth. When you cheat, you steal the right to fairness. There is no more wretched act than stealing. A man who takes what is not his to take, be it life or a loaf of naan, I spit on such a man. And if I ever cross paths with him, God help him.
She had this laugh. I swear it’s why I married her, Laila, for that laugh! It bulldozed you. You stood no chance against it.
I watched Baba’s car pull away from the curb, taking with it the person whose first spoken word had been my name.
Kehilangan sesuatu yang kita miliki selalu lebih menyakitkan daripada tidak memiliki sama sekali.
But, miraculously, something of her former life remained, her last link to the person she had been before she had become so utterly alone. A part of Tariq still alive inside her, sprouting tiny arms, growing translucent hands.
Can I ask what you’re reading?“... She turned the book so the cover faced me. Wuthering Heights. “Have you read it?” She said. I nodded. I could feel the pulsating beat of my heart behind my eyes. “It’s a sad story.” “Sad stories make good books,” She said. “They do.
Prinsip Baba dalam menyelenggarakan pesta adalah: Bukan pesta kalau kau tidak mengundang semua orang di seluruh dunia.
Dan akhirnya, pertanyaan yang selalu kembali padaku adalah: Bagaimana mungkin aku, dari semua orang lain, menghakimi seseorang atas masa lalu mereka?
Tapi waktu sungguh serakah, kadang-kadang ia mencuri semua detail tanpa menyisakan apapun.
Luka bisa disembuhkan. Reputasi tidak bisa dipulihkan.
There is only what you do and what you don’t do.
Seruas jari harus dipotong untuk menyelamatkan tangan.