When I go to Afghanistan, I realize I've been spared, due to a random genetic lottery, by being born to people who had the means to get out. Every time I go to Afghanistan I am haunted by that.

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

There will be no floating waway. There will be no other reality tonight.

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

The warlords took part in atrocities during the civil war in Afghanistan. They looted, they raped, they killed. They have become incredibly empowered and entrenched. They live in mansions, they have jobs in the government, and they're incredibly powerful. In Kabul, people don't want to speak about it too publicly, because these people are essentially like Tony Soprano.

A story is like a moving train: no matter where you hop onboard, you are bound to reach your destination sooner or later.

A society has no chance of success if its women are uneducated.