But better to get hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie.
It may be unfair, but what happens in a few days, sometimes even a single day, can change the course of a whole lifetime...
For you, a thousand times over
I suspect the truth is that we are waiting, all of us, against insurmountable odds, for something extraordinary to happen to us.
And that's the thing about people who mean everything they say. They think everyone else does too.
There is only one sin. and that is theft... when you tell a lie, you steal someones right to the truth.
Marriage can wait, education cannot.
One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.
Like a compass needle that points north, a man's accusing finger always finds a woman. Always.
Children aren't coloring books. You don't get to fill them with your favorite colors.
It always hurts more to have and lose than to not have in the first place.
I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded; not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.
Of all the hardships a person had to face, none was more punishing than the simple act of waiting.
A society has no chance of success if its women are uneducated...
There is a way to be good again...
There are a lot of children in Afghanistan, but little childhood.
Not a word passes between us, not because we have nothing to say, but because we don't have to say anything
Behind every trial and sorrow that He makes us shoulder, God has a reason.
People say that eyes are windows to the soul.
It's a funny thing... but people mostly have it backward. They think they live by what they want. But really, what guides them is what they're afraid of. What they don't want.
They say, Find a purpose in your life and live it. But, sometimes, it is only after you have lived that you recognize your life had a purpose, and likely one you never had in mind.
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.
I will follow you to the ends of the world.
Time can be a greedy thing-sometimes it steals the details for itself.
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.
A man who has no conscience, no goodness, does not suffer.
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. - Amir
Learn this now and learn it well. Like a compass facing north, a man’s accusing finger always finds a woman. Always. You remember that, Mariam.
I now know that some people feel unhappiness the way others love: privately, intensely, and without recourse.
She is the noor of my eyes and the sultan of my heart.
You changed the subject." "From what?" "The empty-headed girls who think you're sexy." "You know." "Know what?" "That I only have eyes for you.
Beauty is an enormous, unmerited gift given randomly, stupidly.
A boy who won't stand up for himself becomes a man who can't stand up to anything.
War doesn't negate decency. It demands it, even more than in times of peace." - Baba
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.
In the end, the world always wins. That's just the way of things.
You see, some things I can teach you. Some you learn from books. But there are things that, well, you have to see and feel.
Better to get hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie.
Perhaps this is just punishment for those who have been heartless, to understand only when nothing can be undone.
Some stories don't need telling
Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right doing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
Men are easy,' he said, fingers tapping on his mahogany desk. 'A man's plumbing is like his mind: simple, very few surprises. You ladies, on the other hand...well, God put a lot of thought into making you.
You've always been a tourist here. You just didn't know it.
I'm so afraid. Because I'm so profoundly happy. Happiness like this is frightening...They only let you this happy if they're preparing to take something from you.
Writing fiction is the act of weaving a series of lies to arrive at a greater truth.
A story is like a moving train: no matter where you hop onboard, you are bound to reach your destination sooner or later.
All good things in life are fragile and easily lost
Boys, Laila came to see, treated friendship the way they treated the sun: its existence undisputed; its radiance best enjoyed, not beheld directly.
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Life goes on, unmindful of beginning, end…crisis or catharsis, moving forward like a slow, dusty caravan of kochis (nomads).
And yet she was leaving the world as a woman who had love and been loved back. she was leaving it as a friend, a companion, a guardian. a mother. a person of consequence at last.
Laila has moved on. Because in the end she knows that’s all she can do. That and hope.
When you have lived as long as I have, the div replied, you find that cruelty and benevolence are but shades of the same color.
But the game involves only male names. Because, if it's a girl, Laila has already named her
You say you felt a presence, but I only sensed an absence. A vague pain without a source. I was like a patient who cannot tell the doctor where it hurts, only that it does.
It was the kind of love that, sooner or later, cornered you into a choice: either you tore free or you stayed and withstood its rigor even as it squeezed you into something smaller than yourself.
I opened my mouth, almost said something. Almost. The rest of my life might have turned out differently if I had. But I didn’t.
The rope that pulls you from the flood can become a noose around your neck.
Yet love can move people to act in unexpected ways and move them to overcome the most daunting obstacles with startling heroism
Tariq tucked the gun into the waist of his denims. Then he said a thing both lovely and terrible. "For you," he said. "I'd kill with it for you, Laila.
Life is a train, get on board.
They tell me I must wade into waters, where I will soon drown. Before I march in, I leave this on the shore for you. I pray you find it, sister, so you will know what was in my heart as I went under.
Attention shifted to him like sunflowers turning to the sun.
For courage, there must be something at stake. I come here with nothing to lose.
Kabul is... a thousand tragedies per square mile.
I'm sorry," Laila says, marveling at how every Afghan story is marked by death and loss and unimaginable grief. And yet, she sees, people find a way to survive, to go on.
The finger cut, to save the hand.
![And every day I thank [God] that I am alive, not because I fear death, but because my wife has a husband and my son is not an orphan.](https://quotes.thefamouspeople.com/images/quotes/khaled-hosseini-31323.jpg)
And every day I thank [God] that I am alive, not because I fear death, but because my wife has a husband and my son is not an orphan.
Go slowly, my lovely moon, go slowly.
There was so much goodness in my life. So much happiness. I wondered whether I deserved any of it.
Sad stories make good books
The past held only this wisdom: that love was a damaging mistake, and its accomplice, hope, a treacherous illusion
And suddenly, just like that, hope became knowledge. I was going to win. It was just a matter of when.
It's wrong to hurt even bad people. Because they don't know any better, and because bad people sometimes become good.
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.
I found a sad little fairy Beneath the shade of a paper tree. I know a sad little fairy Who was blown away by the wind one night.
Though there were moments of beauty, Mariam knew for the most part that life had been unkind to her.
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
Blood is a powerful thing
That's how children deal with terror, they fall asleep.
Yes, hope is a strange thing. Peace at last. But at what price?
The desert weed lives on, but the flower of spring blooms and wilts.
Human behavior is messy and unpredictable and unconcerned with convenient symmetries.
At last, she makes her choice. She turns around, drops her head, and walks toward a horizon she cannot see. After that, she does not look back anymore. She knows that if she does, she will weaken.
He knew I'd seen everything in that alley, that I'd stood there and done nothing. He knew that I'd betrayed him and yet he was rescuing me once again, maybe for the last time.
I brought Hassan’s son from Afghanistan to America, lifting him from the certainty of turmoil and dropping him in a turmoil of uncertainty
It turned out that, like Satan, cancer had many names.
Nothing good came free. Even love. You paid for all things. And if you were poor, suffering was your currency.
It is now your duty to hone that talent, because a person who wastes his God-given talents is a donkey.
All my life, I'd been around men. That night, I discovered the tenderness of a woman.
As far as I know, he never asked where she had been or why she had left and she never told. I guess some stories do not need telling.
Gone. Vanished. Nothing left. Nothing said.
I think that everything he did, feeding the poor, giving money to friends in need, it was all a way of redeeming himself. And that, I believe, is what true redemption is, Amir jan, when guilt leads to good.
She thought of Aziza's stutter, and of what Aziza had said earlier about fractures and powerful collisions deep down and how sometimes all we see on the surface is a slight tremor.
I thought about you all the time. I used to pray that you’d live to be a hundred years old. I didn’t know. I didn’t know that you were ashamed of me.
I want to give up my bearings, slip out of who i am, shed everything, the way a snake discards old skin.
I wished I could be alone in my room, with my books, away from these people.
A woman who will be like a rock in a riverbed, enduring without complaint, her grace not sullied but shaped by the turbulence that washes over her.
I don't know what this feather means, the story of it, but I know it means he was thinking of me. For all these years. He remembered me.
He stopped, turned. He cupped his hands around his mouth. ''For you a thousand times over!'' he said. Then he smiled his Hassan smile and disappeared around the corner.
Love was a damaging mistake and its accomplice,hope, a treacherous illusion".
