14 quotes
Love - the greatest connection to humanity when everything else is falling apart.
With a man, life is difficult. Without a man, life is even more difficult.
The fact that the Bible says [homosexuality is] bad is all the reason you need. Besides, how can people be fruitful and multiply if they carry on in that way?
Under the Udala Trees (2015)
Hardly have I finished speaking the words, and she vanishes, the way that people sometimes do, even from our minds.
In all the ways he can love you, I promise to love you better. I suppose it's the way we are, humans that we are.
I was thinking of the ways in which I could dance or fast or pray this sadness away when Mama spoke.
Under the Udala Trees (2015)
Papa and Mama were only children, no siblings, which they liked to say was one of the reasons they cherished each other: that they were, aside from me, the only family they had left.
Under the Udala Trees (2015)
I knew the truth all the same: that she was doing it for her own good…she was doing it because she was overwhelmed: by life, by the war, by the thought of having to try and make it without Papa.
Under the Udala Trees (2015)
Sometimes we get confused about what happiness really means. Sometimes we get confused about what path to take to get to happiness.
Under the Udala Trees (2015)
I was finding myself forced to acknowledge that the limit of my imagination was by no means the limit of the world.
Under the Udala Trees (2015)
There are no miracles these days. Manna will not fall from the sky. Bombs, yes, enough to pierce our hearts, but manna, no.
Under the Udala Trees (2015)
Maybe love was some combination of friendship and infatuation. A deeply felt affection accompanied by a certain sort of awe. And by gratitude. And by a desire for a lifetime of togetherness.
I suppose it’s the way we are, humans that we are. Always finding it easier to make ourselves the victim in someone else’s tragedy. Though it is true, too, that sometimes it's hard to know to whom the tragedy really belongs.
At the window, only one glass pane remained in its frame, and on it, cracks in an almost circular pattern, as if a spider web had been stretched across its surface. She went up to that pane, touched it, stroked its fissures with her fingers, stared accusingly at it.
Under the Udala Trees (2015)