The Kite Runner

by Khaled Hosseini

A man who has no conscience, no goodness, does not suffer.

When you tell a lie, you steal a man’s right to the truth.

There are a lot of children in Afghanistan, but little childhood.

“How long?” Sohrab asked. “I don’t know. A while.” Sohrab shrugged and smiled, wider this time. “I don’t mind. I can wait. It’s like the sour apples.” “Sour apples?” “One time, when I was really little, I climbed a tree and ate these green, sour apples. My stomach swelled and became hard like a drum, it hurt a lot. Mother said that if I’d just waited for the apples to ripen, I wouldn’t have become sick. So now, whenever I really want something, I try to remember what she said about the apples.”

Perspective was a luxury when your head was constantly buzzing with a swarm of demons.