May poetry and God's name have mercy on us!
He had the blue kite in his hands; that was the first thing I saw. And I can't lie now and say my eyes didn't scan it for any rips.
it always hurts more to have and lose than to not have in the first place.
One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.
Everyone is an ocean inside. Every individual walking the street. Everyone is a universe of thoughts, and insights, and feelings. But every person is crippled in his or her own way by our inability to truly present ourselves to the world.
It may be unfair, but what happens in a few days, sometimes even a single day, can change the course of a whole lifetime.
You are never alone in Afghanistan. You are always in the company of others, usually family. You don't understand yourself really as an individual, you understand yourself as part of something bigger than yourself. Family is so central to your identity, to how you make sense of your world, it is very dramatic, and therefore an amazing source of storytelling, a source of fiction for me.
The heart of the world is breaking under this load of pride and pretense. There is no release from our burden apart from the meekness of Christ.
I'm sort of annoyed that some very basic things about poetic forms were not conveyed to me in the various poetry courses I took over the years.
That's it. I've said all I've got to say on the world of James Bond.
I like dramas and stuff. That's what I watch, but it seems weird that I'd be in it.