No one's life made sense on paper. You cannot condense a person into facts.
Geography and mileage mean nothing. Separate is a single word that covers all distances that aren't together.
Ten days is time enough to die, to be born, to fall in love and to go mad. Ten days is a very long time.
People say of me, 'She's peculiar.' They do not understand me. If they did they would say so oftener and with emphasis.
Mudit was smoking for me I wasn’t ready to give up. Arjun was the Alcohol Anonymous, I wasn’t even ready to enroll; someone had to make me forcefully join it
Mapmaker mapmaker make me a map one to one scale, without a single gap. Map every rock, every thought, every tree and erase all the territory.
You have a responsibility to act for others when you're the only person in a position to do so. It's how you handle it that separates the great from the mediocre.
Papa thought that any book worth reading twice was worth owning. So instead of buying desserts, we bought books.
He had withdrawn solely for his own personal pleasure, only to be near to himself. No longer distracted by anything external, he basked in his own existence and found it splendid.
Thus I rediscovered what writers have always known (and have told us again and again): books always speak of other books, and every story tells a story that has already been told.
How do men act on a sinking ship? Do they hold each other? Do they pass around the whisky? Do they cry?
Her body was rounded like earth. Stories. Breath. . . . Her eyes have been painted closed. I understand. To tell a story you must travel inward.
Storytelling is among the oldest forms of communication. Storytelling is the commonality of all human beings, in all places, in all times.
We all make choices, Cossack. Who we are in this world, what we do in it. Generous or selfish. Happy or sad. Good or evil. It's all down to choice.
We do learn and develop when we are exposed to those who are greater than we are. Perhaps this is the chief way we mature.
My skyscraper of a heart met an earthquake of a woman. Why can’t I meet a simple window washer? My love is a hundred stories tall—and I wrote every single one of those stories.
I wonder if that's the perennial story of writers: you find the true light, you lose the true light, you find it again. And maybe again.
The truth feels different from other things. The closest you can come to describing it is that it feels like taking a perfect breath.
Playing roles in any relationship is false and will inevitably lead to the relationship's collapse. Noone can be any one thing all the time.
Marriage is a mosaic you build with your spouse—millions of tiny moments that create your love story.
Without dignity, identity is erased. In its absence, men are defined not by themselves, but by their captors and the circumstances in which they are forced to live.
