The Kite Runner

this was my one chance to become someone who was looked at, not seen, listened to, not heard.

That was the thing with Hassan. He was so goddamn pure, you always felt like a phony around him.

There is a way to be good again.

longhaired men and women we always saw hanging

I brought Hassan’s son from Afghanistan to America, lifting him from the certainty of turmoil and dropping him in a turmoil of uncertainty.

I see how universal some human experiences are: shame, guilt, regret, friendship, love, forgiveness, atonement.

The generation of Afghan children whose ears would know nothing but the sounds of bombs and gunfire was not yet born.

there is only one sin, only one. And that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft.

Call it Art stealing Life’s thunder.