Khaled Hosseini Quotes
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Afghanistan is the land of Pashtuns. It always has been, always will be. We are the true Afghans, the pure Afghans, not this Flat-Nose here. His people pollute our homeland, our watan. They dirty our blood.
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That was a long time ago, but 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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Fuck the Russia!
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I always felt like Baba hated me a little. And why not? After all, I had killed his beloved wife, his beautiful princess, hadn't I? The least I could have done was to have the decency to have turned out a little more like him.
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Tariq (meeting Laila after ten years): It's good to see you, Laila.
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Giti: Nobody ever came for my hand.
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Tariq: I do it for the girls
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Regret...when it comes to you, I have oceans of it.
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What good is it? All this, what good is it? -Mariam
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How could I of all people, chastise someone for their past?
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War doesn't negate decency. It demands it, even more than in times of peace.
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I ran. A grown man running with a swarm of screaming children. But I didn't care. I ran with the wind blowing in my face, and a smile as wide as the valley of Panjsher on my lips. I ran.
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And I wrote to you, Laila. Volumes. -
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Mariam: I can't beleive what you are now, if you were a Benz before.
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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.
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Like a compass needle that points north, a man's accusing finger always finds a woman. -Nana
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Laila (at fourteen years): What would your mother say when she saw you smoke?
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The Chinese say it is better to be deprived of food for three days than tea for one.
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Hassan's not going anywhere. He's staying right here with us, where he belongs. This is his home and we're his family. Don't you ever ask me that question again!
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It wasn't easy tolerating him talking this way to her, to bear his scorn, his ridicule, his insults, his walking past her like she was nothing but a house cat. But after four years of marriage, Mariam saw clearly how much a woman could tolerate when she was afraid. And Mariam was afraid.
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It always falls on the sober to pay for the sins of the drunk.
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Hassan slumps to the asphalt, his life of unrequited loyalty drifting from him like the windblown kites he used to chase.
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But better to get hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie.
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I dream of you too, Mariam jo. I miss you. I miss the sound of your voice, your laughter. I miss reading to you, and all the times we fished together. Do you remember all the times we fished together? You were a good daughter, Mariam jo, and I cannot ever think of you without feeling shame and regret. -Jalil's letter