Eman Aboulsaad

“You and I once fancied ourselves birds, and we were happy even when we flapped our wings and fell down and bruised ourselves, but the truth is that we were birds without wings. You were a robin ad I was a blackbird, and there were some who were eagles, or vultures, or pretty goldfinches, but none of us had wings.

For birds with wings nothing changes; they fly where they will and they know nothing about borders and their quarrels are very small.

But we are always confined to earth, no matter how much we climb to the high places and flap our arms. Because we cannot fly, we are condemned to do things that do not agree with us. Because we have no wings we are pushed into struggles and abominations that we did not seek, and then, after all that, the years go by, the mountains are levelled, the valleys rise, the rivers are blocked by sand and the cliffs fall into the sea.”
― Louis de Bernières, Birds Without Wings

“La poesía miente, aunque en bonito.”
― Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind

“- No te ofendas, pero a veces una se siente más libre de hablarle a un extraño que a la gente que conoce. ¿Por qué será?
- Probablemente porque un extraño nos ve como somos, no como quiere creer que somos.”
― Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind

“La vie est vaine. Un peu d’amour, Un peu de haine, Et puis bonjour. La vie est brève. Un peu d’espoir, Un peu de rêve, Et puis bonsoir.”
― Agatha Christie, Death on the Nile