Parnaz Foroutan > Quotes

“You carried your infant daughter in one arm, and walked with me, a child six years of age, tired, trudging beside you. You left that nightmare behind. And you left behind other things, too. The elm trees that lined your street. The familiar scent of autumn. The baker's smile when he handed you the fresh bread, the song of the peddlers in the street, the sound of strangers around you talking, haggling, buying, singing, speaking, fighting in a language you understood. Your friends. Your career. Your home. Your dreams. Your family. Your memories. Pots, pans, the fine silver spoons and forks. Photographs. Heirlooms. Your favorite dresses. Your father's grave. The colorful wares of the markets at the new year. Streets you knew by name. Cab drivers who recited poetry. The halls of your old university. You left whatever you couldn't fit into a single suitcase behind you and closed the door of your home for the last time, the dishes washed, the beds made, the curtains drawn, thinking, "Perhaps, perhaps we will come back," and you shut the door, and left, without knowing if you'd ever find home again.”
― Parnaz Foroutan, Radical Hope: Letters of Love and Dissent in Dangerous Times

“Pay no heed to the darkness, the open mouth of greed, the hateful speech, the walls and the guns and the men who bare their teeth at her golden doors. America is yours. Your prayers conceived her, your dreams for your children brought her into being, and your children make her what she is meant to be. They build her. Fashion her bones, sturdy her structures, make her beautiful and strong. America belongs to you, to all mothers who dream of her. So light the small flame of your heart, cup your hands around it to protect it from the savage and the storm, and walk forth into the darkness, because I tell you, that flame, that bit of light you carry, that flickering hope, that has the power to illuminate even the blackest of nights. Hold steady, walk forth, and burn with truth, with love, with compassion, burn brightly because soon, the dawn will come. To my mother, on that highway, on that endless night, when she walked toward the glow of that torch, with lighting imprisoned in her heart. To all mothers who've walked toward this light, Welcome. Home.”
― Parnaz Foroutan, Radical Hope: Letters of Love and Dissent in Dangerous Times

“You responded with silence. Because those who spoke disappeared.”
― Parnaz Foroutan, Radical Hope: Letters of Love and Dissent in Dangerous Times

“Like Yakov, I am crying, for the beautiful face of Yousseff is my desire. Without you, the city is my prison. Wandering, the mountain and desert are my desire.”
― Parnaz Foroutan, The Girl from the Garden

“This letter is for all mothers who choose exile, who walk away from everything they know in search of a safe haven. Who carry their tired children upon their backs through deserts, with home left behind them, and the hope of America at the end of that long, perilous journey. For the mothers who help their frightened children into crowded boats that sail into the tempest-tossed seas. For the mothers who ignore their own hunger so that they can feed their children until they reach the plenty they dream of giving. This letter is for the mothers who shield their bodies of their sleeping babes through the dark nights while planes fly overhead, mothers who pray of giving their children a home where they might sleep safely. America is yours. She always has been. America is the Mother of Exiles. That is her given name, and it is from this dream of mothers that she was conceived. She is the end to that perilous road, the safe shore of that stormy ocean, the refuge from the darkness, the terror, the suffering. She is the plenty, the giver, the one who holds the torch, the flame of which is the imprisoned lightning that will guide us home.”
― Parnaz Foroutan, Radical Hope: Letters of Love and Dissent in Dangerous Times

“And so I must consider their pain? I, with my broken ribs, my broken pride?"
"Ribs mend. Pride another subject for another time. But how does one regain their humanity, once lost? How does man heal a darkness in his heart?”
― Parnaz Foroutan, The Girl from the Garden

“Ibrahim feels an overwhelming desire for her, for the soft of her body, the warmth of it. This urge silences the other voice in his mind, the one that asks insistently, and seeks, and seeks.”
― Parnaz Foroutan

“Not human, she thinks, angelic. Or human as meant to be before the dust of this world settles and dulls the shine.”
― Parnaz Foroutan, The Girl from the Garden

“August is an immeasurable distance from now, she thinks.”
― Parnaz Foroutan, The Girl from the Garden

“You burn with life, Kokab. I want to feel the world through you.”
― Parnaz Foroutan, The Girl from the Garden

“When wanting is louder than the thunder of a thousand hooves.”
― Parnaz Foroutan, The Girl from the Garden