Khaled Hosseini Quotes

For you, a thousand times over

I found a sad little fairy
Beneath the shade of a paper tree.
I know a sad little fairy
Who was blown away by the wind one night.

It's wrong what they say about the past, I've learned, about how you can bury it. Because the past claws its way out.

And the past held only this wisdom: that love was a damaging mistake, and its accomplice, hope, a treacherous illusion. And whenever those twin poisonous flowers began to sprout in the parched land of that field, Mariam uprooted them. She uprooted them and ditched them before they took hold.

It was only a smile, nothing more. It didn't make everything all right. It didn't make ANYTHING all right. Only a smile. A tiny thing. A leaf in the woods, shaking in the wake of a startled bird's flight. But I'll take it. With open arms. Because when spring comes, it melts the snow one flake at a time, and maybe I just witnessed the first flake melting. - Amir

The rope that pulls you from the flood can become a noose around your neck.

At last, she makes her choice. She turns around, drops her head, and walks toward a horizon she cannot see. After that, she does not look back anymore. She knows that if she does, she will weaken.

You're gutless. It's how you were made. And that's not such a bad thing because your saving grace is that you've never lied to yourself about it. Not about that. Nothing wrong with cowardice as long as it comes with prudence. But when a coward stops remembering who he is... God help him.

it always hurts more to have and lose than to not have in the first place.

People learned to live with the
most unimaginable things.

Out beyond ideas
of wrongdoing and right doing,
there is a field.
I’ll meet you there.

The finger cut, to save the hand.

People say that eyes are windows to the soul.

and yet she was leaving the world as a woman who had love and been loved back. she was leaving it as a friend, a companion, a guardian. a mother. a person of consequence at last.

In the coming days and weeks, Laila would scramble frantically to commit it all to memory, what happened next. Like an art lover running out of a burning museum, she would grab whatever she could — a look, a whisper, a moan — to salvage from perishing to preserve. But time is the most unforgiving of fires, and she couldn't, in the end, save it all.