The most precious gift you can bring to your lover is your suffering.

Silence is the tortured man's revenge.

Happiness is a myth. It was invented to make us buy new things.

I went to war. .... I survived, while other men around me died. ... men whose lives were crunched up in mistakes, and thrown away by the wrong second of someone else's hate, or love, or indifference.

Nothing ever fits the palm so perfectly, or feels so right, or inspires so much protective instinct as the hand of a child

The truth is that the man I am was born in those moments, as I stood near the flood sticks with my face lifted to the chrismal rain. Shantaram. The better man that, slowly, and much too late, I began to be.

The past reflects eternally between two mirrors - the bright mirror of words and deeds, and the dark one, full of things we didn't do or say.