We killed you and it was not new for us, we killed the companions of the Prophet and the friends of God. O how many Messengers did we slay? O how many imams? We killed you and you prayed the night prayer, as all of our days are struggle - and all of our days are Karbala.

O Sultan, my master, if my clothes are ripped and torn it is because your dogs with claws are allowed to tear me.

Our shouting is louder than our actions, Our swords are taller than us, This is our tragedy. In short We wear the cape of civilisation But our souls live in the stone age

When a man is in love how can he use old words? Should a woman desiring her lover lie down with grammarians and linguists? I said nothing to the woman I loved but gathered love's adjectives into a suitcase and fled from all languages.

A tragedy, when a mature mind and a romantic heart are in the same body.

Life doesn't stop after losing someone, but it goes on without them differently.

There are some people that we didn't forget, but we don't smile any more when they're mentioned.