The Architect's Apprentice

by Elif Shafak

It’s odd how faces, solid and visible as they are, evaporate, while words, made of breath, stay.

‘When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.’

Fear turned into resentment; resentment into rage. And rage was a ball of flame you could not hold in your hands for too long; it had to be thrown at someone.