Cherine

“لم ألتحق بالجامعة.
تعلَّمْتُ في المخيَّم.”
― رضوى عاشور, الطنطورية

“في اليوم التالي كان البلد يغلي ويفور. كأن مئات الآلاف من البشر تناسخوا بين الليل والنهار في جسد واحد لحيوان خرافي له رهبة وجلال، يتقدم وئيدًا بخطوات تُزَلْزِل الأرض”
― رضوى عاشور, الطنطورية

“Most lives vanish. A person dies, and little by little all traces of that life disappear. An inventor survives in his inventions, an architect survives in his buildings, but most people leave behind no monuments or lasting achievements: a shelf of photograph albums, a fifth-grade report card, a bowling trophy, an ashtray filched from a Florida hotel room on the final morning of some dimly remembered vacation. A few objects, a few documents, and a smattering of impressions made on other people. Those people invariably tell stories about the dead person, but more often than not dates are scrambled, facts are left out, and the truth becomes increasingly distorted, and when those people die in their turn, most of the stories vanish with them.”
― Paul Auster

“So many books, so little time.”
― Frank Zappa