ليس الموت ، فقط نهاية الحياة ! - Arundhati Roy

When the twins asked what cuff-links were for — “To link cuffs together,” Ammu told them — they were thrilled by this morsel of logic in what had so far seemed an illogical language. Cuff+link = cuff-link. This, to them, rivaled the precision of logic and mathematics. Cuff-links gave them an inordinate (if exaggerated) satisfaction, and a real affection for the English language.

She had never before met a man who spoke of the world — of what it was, and how it came to be, or what he thought would become of it — in the way in which other men she knew discussed their jobs, their friends or their weekends at the beach.
Being with Chacko made Margaret feel as though her soul had escaped from the narrow confines of her island country into the vast, extravagant spaces of his. He made her feel as though the world belonged to them — as though it lay before them like an opened frog on a dissecting table, begging to be examined.
In the year she knew them, before they were married, she discovered a little magic in herself, and for a while felt like a blithe genie released from her lamp. She was perhaps too young to realize that what she assumed was her love for Chacko was actually a tentative, timorous, acceptance of herself.

She viewed ethnic cleansing, famine and genocide as direct threats to her furniture.