I realized that the longing for art, like the longing for love, is a malady that blinds us, and makes us forget the things we already know, obscuring reality.
Orhan PamukAnd before long , the msuic , the views rushing past the window , my fathers voice and the narrow cobblestone streets all merged into one , and it seemed to me that while we would never find answers to these fundamental questions , it was good for us to ask them anyway . pg. 284
Orhan PamukWhat is love?โ โI donโt know.โ โLove is the name given to the bond Kemal feels with Fรผsun whenever they travel along highways or sidewalks; visit houses, gardens, or rooms; or whenever he watches her sitting in tea gardens and restaurants, and at dinner tables.โ โHmmm โฆ thatโs a lovely answer,~ But isnโt love what you feel when you canโt see me?โ โUnder those circumstances, it becomes a terrible obsession, an illness.
Orhan Pamuk