I told myself, Malala, you have already faced death. This is your second life. Don't be afraid — if you are afraid, you can't move forward.

Weakness, fear and hopelessness died. Strength, power and courage was born.

If people volunteered in the same way to construct schools or roads or even clear the river of plastic wrappers, by God, Pakistan would become a paradise within a year.

I’m still me, Malala. The important thing is God has given me my life.

In Islam, it is not just your right, but your responsibility to get education.

I want education for the sons and daughters of the Taliban and all the terrorists and extremists. I do not even hate the Talib who shot me. Even if there was a gun in my hand and he was standing in front of me, I would not shoot him. This is the compassion I have learned from Mohamed, the prophet of mercy, Jesus Christ and Lord Buddha.

As we crossed the Malakand Pass I saw a young girl selling oranges. She was scratching marks on a piece of paper with a pencil to account for the oranges she had sold, as she could not read or write. I took a photo of her and vowed I would do everything in my power to help educate girls just like her. This was the war I was going to fight.