آية العوبلّي

“Yours

(now I'm even losing my name - it was getting shorter and shorter all the time and is now: Yours)”
― Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

“تمضي الحكاية، ولا تمضي تمامًا، لأنها وهي تتقدم إلى الزمن التالي تظل ترجع وتسترجع. تتشابه الحكايات وأيضًا تختلف كالوجه وهو يحكي”
― رضوى عاشور, الطنطورية

“The hell with naseeb. Naseeb is what people blame for every thing they can't fix.”
― Nadia Hashimi, The Pearl That Broke Its Shell

“I read the letter once, put it aside, and read it again; I pick up a file but am really only reading your letter; I am with the typist, to whom I am supposed to dictate, and again your letter slowly slides through my fingers and I have begun to draw it out of my pocket when people ask me something and I know perfectly well I should not be thinking of your letter now, yet that thought is all that occurs to me—but after all that I am as hungry as before, as restless as before, and once again the door starts swinging merrily, as though the man with the letter were about to appear again. That is what you call the “little pleasure” your letters give me.”
― Franz Kafka, Letters to Felice