You're gutless. It's how you were made. And that's not such a bad thing because your saving grace is that you've never lied to yourself about it. Not about that. Nothing wrong with cowardice as long as it comes with prudence. But when a coward stops remembering who he is... God help him.

There was brotherhood between people who had fed from the same breast, a kinship that even time could not break. - Amir

The story of what has happened to women in Afghanistan, however, is a very important one, and fertile ground for fiction.

Hassan and I looked at each other. Cracked up. The Hindi kid would soon learn what the British learned earlier in the century, and what the Russians would eventually learn by the late 1980's: that Afghans are an independent people. Afghans cherish customs but abhor rules. And so it was with kite fighting. The rules were simple: No rules. Fly your kite. Cut the opponents. Good luck.

Educate yourself, learn about what refugees face when they don't have homes, after they have lost everything.

Nothing good came free. Even love. You paid for all things. And if you were poor, suffering was your currency.

Like a compass needle that points north, a man's accusing finger always finds a woman. Always.