Life is like a book son. And every book has an end. No matter how much you like that book you will get to the last page and it will end. No book is complete without its end. And once you get there, only when you read the last words, will you see how good the book is.

The more we wait, the more everything and everyone looks like a grain of sand escaping between our fingers before vanishing into the wind.

My dreams tell me who I am.

Unlike at the top of the rubber tree, here on the ground things were less comfortable, infested with anthills, pests and tree parasites. Anthills appeared overnight, sculpting dark mounds on the wooden fence and the tree trunks. The task of destroying the anthills would always be left to me. It was quite a spectacle seeing these organised families going up in flames. What a pleasure I got from witnessing a whole hierarchy of insects turn to ash.

People have always believed in miracles... It's in their nature to believe things can always get better in some mysterious way. If everything else fails, higher forces will help them when the time comes. And people do that because they know the very essence of life is...that from the very beginning, at any point...everything can go wrong.

Then Brás woke up and realized that when you turn that corner, that future you have written and wished for is not always there waiting for you. In fact, it usually isn't at all what you expected... around the corner there is just another big annoying question mark. It's called life.

There’s no understanding the power of a mother, of Zana in particular, because she was the only one who didn’t swallow the story of the English bank. When a son’s fate is at stake, no detective in the world can find more clues than a mother.

The ghazals are convincing, and patience is a powerful weapon…but the heart of a timid man will never win his lady.

Only you don’t change, Omar. You’re still a wreck. Look at your clothes, your hair…the hour you arrive at home. Now you have no father, you should look for a job and stop with this idle lunacy. Your father couldn’t bear looking at you like this. He couldn’t bear watching your life thrown away.

It's strange being famous. People think they know you.