Beauty is an enormous, unmerited gift given randomly, stupidly.

After everything he'd built, planned, fought for, fretted over, dreamed of, this was the summation of his life; one disappointing son and two suitcases.

I have very fond memories of my childhood in Afghanistan, largely because my memories, unlike those of the current generation of Afghans, are untainted by the spectre of war, landmines, and famine.

For a novelist, it's kind of an onerous burden to represent an entire culture.

Her eyes, walnut brown and shaded by fanned lashes, met mine. Held for a moment. Flew away.

You’re not going to cry, are you? - I am not going to cry! Not over you. Not in a thousand years.

One time, when I was very little, I climbed a tree and ate these green, sour apples. My stomach swelled and became hard like a drum, it hurt a lot. Mother said that if I'd just waited for the apples to ripen, I wouldn't have become sick. So now, whenever I really want something, I try to remember what she said about the apples.