What We Search For In Fiction Is

You Get A Strange Feeling When You're About To Leave A Place, I Told Him, Like You'll Not Only Miss The People You Love But You'll Miss The Person You Are Now At This Time And This Place, Because You'll Never Be This Way Ever Again.

Unfortunately For Governments Like That Of Iran, When They Forbid Something, People Become More Interested.

Imagine You Are Walking Down A Leafy Path...the Sun Is Receding, And You Are Walking Alone, Caressed By The Breezy Light Of The Late Afternoon. Then Suddenly, You Feel A Large Drop On Your Right Arm. Is It Raining? You Look Up. The Sky Is Still Deceptively Sunny...seconds Later Another Drop. Then, With The Sun Still Perched In The Sky, You Are Drenched In A Shower Of Rain. This Is How Memories Invade Me, Abruptly And Unexpectedly.

I Believe That It Is Only Through Empathy, That The Pain Experienced By An Algerian Woman, A North Korean Dissident, A Rwandan Child Or An Iraqi Prisoner, Becomes Real To Me And Not Just Passing News. And It Is At Times Like This When I Ask Myself, Am I Prepared - Like Huck Finn - To Give Up Sunday School Heaven For The Kind Of Hell That Huck Chose?

Living In The Islamic Republic Is Like Having Sex With Someone You Loathe.