500 turmans for the live and virginity of an innocent girl.
Things always happen when you least expect it.
Bagaimanapun, selama ada minyak di Timur Tengah kita takkan pernah damai.
You know men!! As soon as you give in to them, they ignore you.
Dear friend, life passes with or without God.
Cigarettes are food for the soul.
Don’t worry about it, my child. Tell yourself that you are experiencing a true love story. But of course. Have you ever seen anyone write a poem about the woman he married and who yells at him four times a day? Do you think that if Romeo and Juliet had had six children together, there would have been a book about them? You’re suffering! That’s why you’re playing so well now!
You don’t grow up, you grow old.
Everyone gathered around this drink in order to devote themselves to their favorite activity: discussion. This discussion had its own purpose: To speak behind others’ backs is the ventilator of the heart.
My natural optimism just leads me to be skeptical.
When it comes to married life, character takes precedence over looks...
Get real up to a certain age, you need your parents, then later, they need you.
But as far as your virginity is concerned... Now that you are married and divorced, it’s normal that you’re no longer a virgin! You can make love with whomever you want, without anyone knowing! You know! There’s no meter down here!
Marriage, it’s like roulette: Sometimes one wins, often one loses. Even if you’re very in love, it can still go bad.
I’m going to die and my son farts in my face... what a waste!
We give meaning to life based on our point of view. Only wisdom, like the light of the candle, can bring us a complete view of existence. The key to wisdom is doubt! If you doubted a little, you would definitely be less arrogant.
As for me, I sealed my act of rebellion against my mother’s dictatorship by smoking the cigarette I’d stolen from my uncle two weeks earlier. Kofff! Kofff! Kofff!!! It was awful. But this was not the moment to give in. With this first cigarette, I kissed childhood goodbye. Now I was a grown-up.
The Key to Paradise was for poor people. Thousands of young kids, promised a better life, exploded on the minefields with their keys around their necks.
When I went back to her room she was crying. We were not in the same social class but at least we were in the same bed.
On ne peut s’apitoyer sur soi que quand nos malheurs sont encore soutenables... une fois cette limite franchie, le seul moyen de supporter l’insupportable, c’est d’en rire.