A Thousand Splendid Suns

by Khaled Hosseini

Like a compass needle that points north, a man’s accusing finger always finds a woman. Always. You remember that, Mariam.”

A man’s heart is a wretched, wretched thing, Mariam. It isn’t like a mother’s womb. It won’t bleed, it won’t stretch to make room for you.

“Tell your secret to the wind, but don’t blame it for telling the trees.”