It was you Nabi. It was always you. Didn't you know?

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

I was overwhelmed with the kindness of people [in Afghanistan] and found that they had managed to retain their dignity, their pride, and their hospitality under unspeakably bleak conditions.

I wanted to write about Afghanistan before the Soviet war because that is largely a forgotten period in modern Afghan history.

Literary fiction is kept alive by women. Women read more fiction, period.

All good things in life are fragile and easily lost

I returned to Afghanistan because I had a deep longing to see for myself how people lived, what they thought of their government, how optimistic they were about the future of their homeland.