Last Train to Istanbul

by Ayşe Kulin

“Love is like a flame; it burns itself out eventually,” Sabiha had told Selva. “What will you do then?

“Think carefully. We only have one life to live. We alone are responsible for it.”

She was one of those people who never contradicted anybody, but somehow always managed to get her own way.

“Life is too short, Selva. How often has Father told us about the value of time? Time is not to be wasted.” “If life is too short, isn’t that more reason to make the most of what we’ve got? To live the way we want to?”

It isn’t as bad feeling lonely in a country where you don’t know anyone. Can you imagine being ignored by everyone in a place where you have many friends and family?

Beyazid II’s statement at the time was: “It is said that Ferdinand is a wise king. However, the truth of the matter is that by getting rid of the Jews, he has made his country poorer and mine richer.”

It’s interesting, she thought, that one isn’t scared of death from a distance, but when it is staring you in the face it feels like a merciless enemy that you desperately want to avoid.