Goodreads helps you follow your favorite authors. Be the first to learn about new releases!
Start by following Miramoon.

Miramoon Miramoon > Quotes

 

 (?)
Quotes are added by the Goodreads community and are not verified by Goodreads. (Learn more)
Showing 1-29 of 29
“A bird kept in a cage will dream of flying for the entirety of her life.
Man, on the contrary, will spend his entire life attempting to ‘fall in
love with the cage’ when confined!”
Miramoon
“It’s plainly selfish to bring children into the world and thrust
success on their delicate hearts to make up for all the places you
failed, just to make them dance on your strings while you yourself
remain blinded by the veils of life. Do we all not possess our own
rhythms?”
Miramoon
“What was I to do, if not burn?”
Miramoon
“if ‘caged’ then a Man, if ‘freed’ then a “God”
Miramoon
“Let it out,” I whispered “Scream, shout, release whatever
holds you captive. Find your voice in the echoes of your own
sound.”
Miramoon
“I kept convincing him I
hear something and he kept thinking I was acutely diseased, I was
not only hallucinating but highly delusional. I chased music while
learning it just to find the similar rhythm it led me everywhere
except to that one rhythm which no one believes exists.”
Miramoon
“After all, nothing saves a man more than everything he bears
in immense pain.”
Miramoon
“The evolution however did nothing to a man except
to widen the size of his cage, spreading their bars fading their
tangible bodies. Mostly, we formed cages, the ones we refuse to
even acknowledge!”
Miramoon
“Every eye holds its own vision, even if blurred the vision never
goes away, and for the same reason every author must have written, to
be read and understood in a language that goes beyond words.”
Miramoon
“Within the confines of the world, we puppet through varied strings
pulling in their own relevant bars”
Miramoon
“The person that I was running from, stood in that mirror
in front of me; I was frightened to death since I knew what had
happened to a person like that. And that’s what happens with age:
the older you get the more you know the consequences of the acts.
Ironically you know how it ends, but what you never learn is
how to stop it.”
Miramoon
“In the face of war, I stood resolute, for I knew that within the
chaos, a symphony awaited my very being, in whichever form it may
come now, I will accept it with open arms.”
Miramoon
“Life was never about looping around birth
and death rather a matter of one’s witnessing for how long one
goes on hoping and surviving for a life they’ll never have. The
dyad of life and death was rather a loop of “hope and despair”
Miramoon
“There’s a voice that calls me from the beyond, it has no shape, no word,
no symbol and no form, it’s a symphony, whenever I start hearing it,
everything else becomes irrelevant”
Miramoon
“His violence birthed inside my chest, clasping me and
hanging like a rock on my neck, engraving a lifetime of a burning
scar, how would it not? If you grow up in a house witnessing that
your father’s hands have grabbed your mother’s throat more than
her waist.”
Miramoon
“Regardless of all the times that I witnessed
my father’s rage burning on my mother’s cheek; I would look
at her and she’d give the same smile, the smile that tells me she
blames herself for his violence.”
Miramoon
“that was the
exact age when my father peeled the worldly affairs like layers of
orange without peeling off it as whole desiring me to gulp without
knowing the whys, gave it thinking he’s favouring the content of
my appetite, rather later I fathomed he was only poisoning me, as
he was poisoned himself, so was the orange and the world around
him.”
Miramoon
“I knew, I did not know a lot of ways of the world. But It was a
scream, a woman’s scream that transcended silence, a proclamation
of existence in a world that had almost forgotten to listen.”
Miramoon
“what you called out for a really long time, will call you back from
the streets of deafs”
Miramoon
“I have gazed enough at my mother for all my answers when
I was always terrified to ask my father, but instead of any answer
always came a mournful smile. It was hard to tell whether her
smile was mournful or whether it was the structure of her lips
that sloped downwards everytime she tried to smile rather than
otherwise. I may have fathomed this forlorn smile now, yet I
wondered for all that we couldn’t ask our fathers how foolishly we
thrust those questions on our mothers.”
Miramoon
“Periods; the only thing as told by my
mother defines “womanhood”
and I wondered…“blood?” So, with the theory, blood and
womanhood held no difference, and with my growing years…it
barely had any.
“You’ll know when you will grow up my child,” she said
smiling and continued, “there’s more to it than just blood.” I
wonder now if by more she meant…. The suffering, endurance, and if, above all, what defines womanhood is staying silent towards
anything and everything considering it a shame to spell out.”
Miramoon
“There are no repairs to mend the home once torn apart. You can
decorate as much as you desire. yet, the emptiness will explode the
same as that of a cremated body buried in the grave”
Miramoon
“She strangely knew a lot of literature and used such aphorisms to
explain me the agony of her heart at times. She has always been
telling me to read now and then. Certainly remaining a fanatic
about two things: God and Books.
I refused them both”
Miramoon
“All the madness of society that has been depicted dramatically
in fables, allegories, and folklore, which keeps me ensnared in the
pages of these books, more than the world.”
Miramoon
“In the midst of the looming threat that covered and shook our
being, Safiya’s plea continued with a wrath pulled at my shoulders,
her eyes brimming with tears. But I, unmoved, recognized this choice
before me. It could have been bullets that awaited me, and yes, it could
mean the end of my story. Yet, to trade my life for the silence and give
up this music? It was a trade I refused to make.”
Miramoon
“To speak of creation, There is always a guilt that throbs every
artist’s heart on taking the credit of a piece of art that the creative force
in the universe has thrusted inside of a human heart and stretched one’s
hand towards building sand castles and lines on the ocean. It’s surreal,
neither to be seen or to be saved. But if it is both “seen and saved” it
could mean the force was strong enough to indulge in the play of the
world, to rip apart the womb of the heart of a man and come out, to
stretch its wings and break the cage, to scream till your voice reaches
the moon. In all such cases it’s always a mystical force that creates art
and never the artist.”
Miramoon
“When she asked me what I love? I always said ‘music’ just to
repetitively witness her face flinch, as If she called me to pray to
her Gods and I turned my hands folding to devil!”
Miramoon
“The red discharge between a woman’s legs, the pain of no
scar, the misery of no wound, that either leads her to extreme
shame or a child, which I reckon were the same to my mother. Is
that what is supposed to be the essence of womanhood?”
Miramoon
“I wonder what if father was right
when he said “look, what happens to a woman like that!”
Miramoon