Everyone is an ocean inside. Every individual walking the street. Everyone is a universe of thoughts, and insights, and feelings. But every person is crippled in his or her own way by our inability to truly present ourselves to the world.

Reading is an active, imaginative act; it takes work.

There are a lot of children in Afghanistan, but little childhood.

It is now your duty to hone that talent, because a person who wastes his God-given talents is a donkey.

But better to get hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie.

Kabul was a thriving cosmopolitan city with its vibrant artistic, intellectual and cultural life. There were poets, musicians, and writers. There was also an influx of western culture, art, and literature in the '60s and '70s.

Yes, hope is a strange thing. Peace at last. But at what price?