Dunya Quotes

This world cannot break you—unless you give it permission. And it cannot own you unless you hand it the keys—unless you give it your heart. And so, if you have handed those keys to dunya for a while—take them back. This isn’t the End. You don’t have to die here. Reclaim your heart and place it with its rightful owner: God.

If you allow dunya to own your heart, like the ocean that owns the boat, it will take over. You will sink down to the depths of the sea. You will touch the ocean floor.

We must also realize that nothing happens without a purpose. Nothing. Not even broken hearts. Not even pain. That broken heart and that pain are lessons and signs for us. They are warnings that something is wrong. They are warnings that we need to make a change. Just like the pain of being burned is what warns us to remove our hand from the fire, emotional pain warns us that we need to make an internal change. We need to detach. Pain is a form of forced detachment. Like the loved one who hurts you again and again and again, the more dunya hurts us, the more we inevitably detach from it. The more we inevitably stop loving it.

As much as you can, keep dunya (worldly life) in your hand--not in your heart. That means when someone insults you, keep it out of your heart so it doesn't make you bitter or defensive. When someone praises you, also keep it out of your heart, so it doesn't make you arrogant and self-deluded. When you face hardship and stress, don't absorb it in your heart, so you don't become hopeless and overwhelmed. Instead keep it in your hands and realize that everything passes. When you're given a gift by God, don't hold it in your heart. Hold it in your hand so that you don't begin to love the gift more than the giver. And so that when it is taken away you can truly respond with 'inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi rajioon': 'indeed we belong to God, and to God we return'.

I thank everyone I don't love. They don't cause me heartache they don't make me write long letters they don't disturb my dreams I don't await them anxiously I don't read their horoscopes in magazines I don't dial their numbers I don't think of them. I thank them a lot they don't turn my life upside down.

God is with the broken-hearted. When your heart breaks, it's a good thing - the breaking of the heart is what opens it up to the light of Allah. The dunya is designed to break your heart, so crush it.

After years of falling into the same pattern of disappointments and heartbreak, I finally began to realize something profound. I had always thought that love of dunya meant being attached to material things. And I was not attached to material things. I was attached to people. I was attached to moments. I was attached to emotions. So I thought that the love of dunya just did not apply to me. What I didn’t realize was that people, moments, emotions are all a part of dunya. What I didn’t realize is that all the pain I had experienced in life was due to one thing, and one thing only: love of dunya.

the nature of the dunya as a place of fleeting moments and temporary attachments.

The Prophet said: “Islam began as something strange, and it shall return to being something strange as it began, so give glad tidings to the strangers.” [Sahih Muslim] By being ‘strange’ to this dunya, we can live in it, without being of it. And it is through that detachment that we can empty the vessel of our heart in preparation for that which nourishes it and gives it life. By emptying our heart, we prepare it for its true nourishment: God.

You’re my home, Hayati. Ilove you in this dunya and the akhira. Until Jennah reunites us.

Dunya had mourned her passing long before they put her in the ground.

Dunya’s voice creaked like a calling raven, for she remembered, to her grief, the girl who had come to Ivan Kalita’s halls, lost and frail and achingly beautiful, trailing miracles behind her.

Ultimately, the question was about the nature of the dunya as a place of fleeting moments and temporary attachments. As a place where people are with you today and leave or die tomorrow. But this reality hurts our very being because it goes against our nature. We, as humans, are made to seek, love, and strive for what is perfect and what is permanent. We are made to seek what’s eternal. We seek this because we were not made for this life. Our first and true home was Paradise: a land that is both perfect and eternal. So the yearning for that type of life is a part of our being. The problem is that we try to find that here. And so we create ageless creams and cosmetic surgery in a desperate attempt to hold on—in an attempt to mold this world into what it is not, and will never be.

To show you all my scars, is not to tell you that this Dunya would always leave you wounded, and bruised, and on knees, but to show you that see, healing is always possible. Healing is easy. Healing is beautiful.

Because this is what I am. Not a Paper Girl anymore, just “girl.” Almost, as I told Lady Dunya, a caste of its own. An oppressed caste, yes, but one braver and bolder and capable of more brilliance than any other in this world.

Trees don’t ask why they don’t move from place to place, nor do they ask any other meaningless questions. But their branches tremble when the birds leave them,

and then I knew that only the dreams of a stone don't become cracked and only the heart of a stone endures.

Tale of Taj al-Muluk and the Princess Dunya (The Lover and the Loved).

Zhar Ptitsa,” Vasya said, tasting the words as though she had never sat at Dunya’s feet hearing tales of the firebird.

One week of my life produces enough electricity to power a hundred years of humanitarian intervention.

How they succumbed to the same diseases, which brought down the mighty Roman Empire. The wrote all over al-Andalus "La-Ghaliba Illa'Llah" {There is no vanquisher except Allah} but they worshipped the mata'al-dunya {pleasure of the world} and traded their souls for gold, glory, women and wine, only to end like stray donkeys, kicked around by the boots of Ferdinand and Isabella.

Nothing Here is Enough” I need a parrot, identical days, a quantity of needles, and artificial ink to make history. I need veiled eyelids, black lines, and ruined puppets to make geography. I need a sky wider than longing, and water that is not H2O to make wings. The days are no longer enough to distinguish the missing. I no longer see you because I no longer dream. I offer a tear to the rain as if scattering you in the Dead Sea, and in order to sing you, I need glass to muffle the sound.

TUJHE WAPIS MEIN LAUN KAISE... Tere bin jeena is dil ko sikhaun kaise, Hoon dil shikasta, tujhe wapis mein laun kaise, Tujhe yaad kar k jo girtay hein aansu mere, Dunya walon se unko chhupaun kaise, Baad tere jo kuch bhi hai beeta mujh par, Dastaan wo mein tujh ko sunaun kaise, Wo jo soya tu us din to na utha kabhi, Raha sochta mein k tujh jo jagaun kaise, Poochtay hein yeh jo mujh se k tu kaisa tha, Teri azmat ka inko bataun kaise, Tujhe bichhray ik arsa ab hone ko hai, Magar is dil ko yeh yaqeen mein dilaun kaise, Chehray ki is hansi pe na jao yaaron, Tum ko dil k zakham mein dikhaun kaise, Tere hone se hi hansta tha yeh dil saadi, Hoon pareshan ab isko hansaun kaise…!

قال أبو حازم: إذا كنت تطلب من الدنيا ما يكفيك فأدنى ما فيها يكفيك و إن كنت تطلب ما يغنيك و لا يغنيك ما يكفيك فليس فيها ما يغنيك If you seek in this world what suffices you then the least of this world will suffice you and if you seek for what will fulfil you and you can't be fulfilled by what suffices you then nothing in this world will fulfill you.

If the world were flat like a magic carpet, our sorrow would have a beginning and an end. If the world were square, we would lie low in a corner when the war plays "hide and seek." If the world were round, our dreams would take turns on the ferris wheel, and we would be equal.

Polunochnitsa,” she said, drinking. Vasya jerked back in alarm. Solovey, watching, pinned his ears. Vasya’s nurse, Dunya, had told tales of two demon-sisters, Midnight and Midday, and none of those stories ended well for lonely travelers. “Why are you here?” Vasya asked, breathing fast.

No. As I said there has been no demand for ransom. There . . . there has been no contact at all.” “Then what makes you certain he kidnapped her? She might have simply run away.” “She would never run away,” Salima said adamantly. “Dunya is a good girl. She was happy at home.” “Happy sixteen-year-olds are rarer than just kings.

Democracy is people-approved dictatorship, Military is people-approved genocide. Atom bombs are people-approved armageddon, In conscience-court all guilty of homicide.

Christ stands for love and compassion, christian nationalism is Christ's death.

You don't need to be an activist to be good people, particularly when most activists of today are just attention-craving hypocrites.

Faith tethered solely to books and not the heart, inadvertently becomes a breeding ground of superstition, bigotry and prejudice.

The perfect country doesn't exist, the perfect consciousness doesn't exist, the perfect cosmos doesn't exist.

I still feel that poetry is not medicine — it's an X-ray. It helps you see the wound and understand it.

The world has plenty room for everyone, but no world is room enough for the bigot.

Pocketful of moments become memories through amity.

Problem with AI is that, they're born yesterday, yet they pretend like they've lived forever. Problem with humans is that, we've been here a long time, yet we behave like we're born yesterday.

Kuslari bogdular, cimenleri soktuler, yollar camur icinde kaldi. Dunya degisiyor dostlarim. Gunun birinde gokyuzunde guz mevsiminde artik esmer lekerler goremeyeceksiniz. Gunun birinde yol kenarlarinda toprak anamizin koyu yesil saclarini da goremeyeceksiniz. Bizim icin degil cocuklar,sizin icin kotu olacak. Biz kuslari ve yesilleri cok gorduk. Sizin icin kotu olacak. Benden hikayesi....

Brother, brother, what are you saying? I mean, you have blood on your hands!" Dunya cried in despair. "The blood that's on everyone's hands," he caught her up, almost in a frenzy now, "that flows and has always flowed through the world like a waterfall, that is poured like champagne and for the sake of which men are crowned in the Capitol and then called the benefactors of mankind. Well, just take a closer look and see what's really what!...

He used to annoy me with sophistry that we all chose our destiny. Then one day I told him that that’s great when fate offers you a nice set of destinies to choose from, but when you find yourself choosing between risking being raped, tortured and killed, or moving to another country to live like an alien without tongue, money or understanding, you are buggered either way. And that’s not even to mention how easily he could navigate through the mine filed of his mistakes...

The world of justice looks very different depending on which side of disparity you belong to. For the everyday commoner, struggle for human rights is the natural way of life, whereas for privileged egomaniacs, activism is a publicity stunt.

The brutality of the regime knows no bounds. It does not remain neutral towards the people here; it creates beasts in its own image out of ordinary people who might have been neighbors instead. Even more dangerous was the fact that the fundamentals of humanity and the ABCs of life have been eviscerated from the hearts of many people here. State television destroys human compassion, the sort of fundamental empathy that is not contingent upon a political or even a cultural orientation, and through which one human being can relate to another. The al-Dunya channel stirs up hatred, broadcasts fake news and maligns any opposing viewpoint. I wasn't the only one subjected to internet attacks by the security services and the Ba'thists, even if the campaign against me may be fiercer because I come from the Alawite community and have a lot of family connections to them -- because I am a woman and it's supposedly easier to break me with rumors and character assassinations and insults. Some of my actress friends who expressed sympathy for the children of Dar'a and called for an end to the siege of the city were subjected to a campaign of character assassinations and called traitors, then forced to appear on state television in order to clarify their position. Friends who expressed sympathy for the families of the martyrs would get insulted, they would be called traitors and accused of being foreign spies. People became afraid to show even a little bit of sympathy for one another, going against the basic facts of life, the slightest element of what could be called the laws of human nature -- that is, if we indeed agree that sympathy is part of human nature in the first place. Moral and metaphorical murder is being carried out as part of a foolproof plan, idiotic but targeted, stupid yet leaving a mark on people's souls.

Girl. Such a simple title. One I've been labeled all my life. But nowhere was I called it more than at the Hidden Palace: spat from the beaked mouth of Madam Himura, hissed with contemp by Naja, thrown with derision by General Yu. But in the Cloud Palace, with the magnificent Lady Dunya before me and her bold, fierce daughters, I feel for one of the first times the hidden power contained within its single modest syllable. Because this is what I am. Not a Paper Girl anymore, just "girl." Almost, as I told Lady Dunya, a caste of its own. An oppressed caste, yes, but one braver and bolder and capable of more brilliance than any other in this world.

If I had a child, I wouldn't teach them a single thing about the culture I was raised in - instead I'll hand over all the cultures I've assimilated throughout my life, so that one day they may grow up to be a whole human being, rather than a puny fragmented ape - so that they may become a large person in a small planet, rather than a small primate in a large world.

In one of my early works I once wrote, "America is a great country, built by great people". And it took me some time to look through the fallacy of this statement. I could still justify it by saying, it depends on the context - which would be technically true. But my dignity, my conscience, my morality - everything that is civilized in me, has been eating me alive for some time now over this one statement. Because if we throw away all technicality and look from a simple, everyday human perspective - nothing about the the birth of America is great - America is a terrorist nation, built by terrorists who invaded other people's land, stripped them of their homes, and built a spin-off of the ruthless British empire over their blood and bones. You think America's homeless problem is something new! It's not - America has been making people homeless ever since the pilgrims set foot in Plymouth Rock. The pilgrims were not pioneers, they were terrorists.

Colonizer of A Different Kind (The Sonnet) Only the shape of colonialism has changed, not the nature. Tendencies are just as filthy, rightful heir to animal disaster. I too am a colonizer, but of a different kind. I colonize no home by force, with words I colonize minds. Humanitarianism is civilized colonialism - simpler still, humanitarianism is civilization. That's the contagion my literature carries, through my proses and sonnetic revelation. First thousand were an accident, Second thousand, a promise. Answer to traditional animosity, Antidote to doting prejudice.

Ringrazio tutti coloro che non amo perché non mi fanno venire il mal di testa non mi fanno scrivere lunghe lettere non agitano i miei sogni non li attendo con ansia non leggo i loro oroscopi sul giornale non compongo il loro numero di telefono non li penso. Li ringrazio molto non mi mettono in subbuglio la vita”. "I thank everyone I don't love. They don't cause me heartache they don't make me write long letters they don't disturb my dreams I don't await them anxiously I don't read their horoscopes in magazines I don't dial their numbers I don't think of them. I thank them a lot they don't turn my life upside down.

Unspoken Truths (The Sonnet) Democracy is people-approved dictatorship, Military is people-approved genocide. Atom bombs are people-approved armageddon, In conscience-court all guilty of homicide. There is no time left, for there never was time, Time begins with the beginning of civilization. And civilization is something we are yet to find, Hence, there is no question of clock progression. Nationalist chimps sell war in the name of security, Stoneage civilians rush to bulk-buy graveyard plots. Merchant of murder, you, yell about peacekeeping, While you feast on nationalism like wet little cods! When cavemen take pride in their national glory of death, Sanctuary becomes asylum for the lunatic walking dead!

This worldly life, the dunya, is just like the ocean. And our hearts are the ships.

Zindagi ki train per sawaar, hawa k woh zor se jhonkon se urne wali zulfon ne kuch rukh badalti hue raston ki yaad dilaye; asman to aik he tha lekin badalte hue rung aur yadain. Woh radio per lgi hui dhun aur train k chalne ki awaz kuch mukhtalif theen lekin unka aik sa he taluq mehsos hua. Kahan zindagi ruk si gyee thi; tham sa gya tha karwan; thehar se gye the kam;chalti rhi hawa; khilte rahe phool. Ehsas hua k zindagi to mukhtasir he rahi hamesha; farq itna hai k masroofiat ne kabhi yeh mehsoos krne ka waqt he nahi dya. Kya waqt ka paheya yun ghooma k dunya ruk si gyi aur zameen-o-asmaan ne sans lena shuru kardya jo shayad kaheen ruk sa gya tha. Kaheen woh taluq aur rabta thehar sa gya; woh zindagi ki tez raftar kaheen halki hote hue mehsoos hone lgi; kuch muktalif sa lgne lga waqt shayad kaheen woh tez hawa jo andhi k manind thi woh ub tham si gyi thi. zindagi ne naya rukh le lya; aur insan heraan hogye.

He also records that Wahb ibn Munabbih said, ‘A servant worshipped Allah for fifty years. Allah inspired him with the words, “I have forgiven you.” The servant asked, “Lord, what have you to forgive, I have committed no sin!” Thereupon Allah ordered a vein in his neck to throb painfully such that he could not pray or sleep. After a while it was cured and an angel came to him, and to him he complained about the vein. The angel said to him, “Your Lord, Mighty and Magnificent says: your worship for the last fifty years equates to the soothing of that vein.”’ [Abu Nu‘aym, vol. 4, p. 70 #4784; and ibn Abi al-Dunya #148]

Sanatana Dharma is advaita sanskriti, that is, a culture of nonsectarianism, Hindutva means mindless saffronization.

Intolerance is a worldwide pandemic, only terminologies vary culture to culture. Vaccine for the mightiest swords of hate, is the gentle glint of one heart, hatebuster.

If you are not indigenous, you are an immigrant.

Ain't Hands But Hammer (Reformer's Sonnet) Mine ain't hands but hammer - to knock down walls of prejudice. Mine ain't brain but bulldozer - to crush all bigoted rubbish. Brain is needed, brawn is needed, More than all conscience is needed. While the violent pretend to be gentle, The gentle pretending violent, is needed. Peace is not the absence of violence, Peace is an act of controlled violence. Controlled narcissism is a golden faculty, To reform a society rooted in somnolence. When all pretend gentle, I admit, I'm mental. To the peace of intolerance, I'm damn detrimental.

Peace is not the absence of violence, peace is an act of controlled violence.

When all pretend gentle, I admit, I'm mental. To the peace of intolerance, I'm damn detrimental.

Mine ain't hands but hammer - to knock down walls of prejudice. Mine ain't brain but bulldozer - to crush all bigoted rubbish.

Khalsa means freedom from hate, Khalistan means nationalizing hate.

Time to Defect (The Sonnet) It's time to defect, my friend - from the side of passport to the side of heartport, from the side of prison to the side of reason, from the side of nationality to the side of sanity, from the side of myopia to the side of motion, from the side of crutches to the side of conscience, from the side of coffins to the side of character, from the side of bombs to the side of backbone, from the side of barbwire to the side of brainwire, from the side of flag to the side of fervor, from the side of parasites to the side of paragons, from the side of pacemakers to the side of peacemakers, from the side of ideology to the side of illumination. It's time to defect, my friend - from the side of caves to the side of kind, from the side of tribe to the side of life.

It's time to defect, my friend - from the side of tribe to the side of life.

From Karbala to Kurukshetra, from Jerusalem to Chanakkale, light of truth has never submitted to the howling audacity of divisive animality - then why should you? Remember, there is a karbala in each of you, there is a kurukshetra in each of you, there is a jerusalem and chanakkale in each of you. And till you accept defeat out of your own free will, not a force in the world can dampen the daring advances of love and reason. So, get up - get out - and get lost! Wanna lead the world? First learn about the world - get so lost in the struggles of each and every people of planet earth, that you forget where you came from altogether - get so lost in the struggles of the people of earth, that for the first time in life you start to breathe as a whole human being - get so lost, that for the first time you see the light of dawn not as a puny slave to puny borders, but as the civilized maker of a civilized world.

From Karbala to Kurukshetra, from Jerusalem to Chanakkale, light of truth has never submitted to the howling audacity of divisive animality - then why should you? Remember, there is a karbala in each of you, there is a kurukshetra in each of you, there is a jerusalem and chanakkale in each of you. And till you accept defeat out of your own free will, not a force in the world can dampen the daring advances of love and reason.

Wanna lead the world? First learn about the world - get so lost in the struggles of each and every people of planet earth, that you forget where you came from altogether - get so lost in the struggles of the people of earth, that for the first time in life you start to breathe as a whole human being - get so lost, that for the first time you see the light of dawn not as a puny slave to puny borders, but as the civilized maker of a civilized world.

Human can't hate, hate can't be human.

No tolerance for intolerance.

What's the first commandment - a fundamentalist preacher once yelled at me with utter condescension! I replied quite instinctively - love thy neighbor. He laughed in ridicule and said - if you had actually studied the bible, you'd know, the first commandment is, love thy God - love thy neighbor is the second. I smiled and responded - and if you had paid any attention to my pal JC, you'd know - love comes first, nothing before that.

One nuclear warhead contains 9 lbs of plutonium, Which can electrify 2000 households for a year. Yet you use that majestic power of atom as pawn, In your stoneage geopolitical games of fear.

Injustice is not allowed on my watch.

Naskar doesn't write for the white or colored, for the believer or nonbeliever, for the capitalist or socialist - Naskar only writes for the human - because Naskar is human - a whole human.

Идеалната държава не съществува, идеалното съзнание не съществува, идеалната вселена не съществува.

World Integration Day (9th October Sonnet) When I am gone, Celebrate not October 9th, as the day Naskar was born. Celebrate it if you so desire, as the World Day of Integration. Tie a bracelet of assimilation, amongst buddies across culture. Pledge to have each other's back, even if deemed tradition's traitor. Mark you, one day is not enough, to live as an integration advocate. But the journey of a million miles, must begin with one bold step. Live each day of your life, as proof of love and oneness. Cause inclusion defying prejudice, You are the cure for divisiveness.

Time is Illusion (The Sonnet) Time is a necessary illusion, forged from the fabric of memory, meant for adding coherence to life, so that you're mindful of your duty. Body cannot survive in the vacuum of space, Mind cannot survive in the vacuum of time. Brain cannot survive in the vacuum of skull, So it floats about in the fluid of spine. Memory makes the past, memory makes future, Memory is the bedrock of the time psyche. Physical time is irrelevant to the mind, Mind creates its own domain of temporality. Time is a myth, that aids us survive. Master the myth, o divine maker - Time and tide are born inside!

No hago publicidad, nunca lo haré. Todo mi conjunto de obras prospera a pesar de la absoluta ausencia de publicidad. Escribo en silencio, publico en silencio, continúo la lucha en silencio, en silencio y solo. No tengo una industria que me respalde; todo lo que tengo es mi sueño: el sueño de un mundo indiviso.

Jag gör inte publicitet, det kommer jag aldrig att göra. Hela mitt verk trivs trots den absoluta frånvaron av publicitet. Jag skriver i det tysta, jag publicerar i det tysta, jag fortsätter kampen i det tysta - i det tysta och ensam. Jag har ingen bransch att backa upp mig - allt jag har är min dröm - drömmen om en odelad värld.

Nothing about the the birth of America is great - America is a terrorist nation, built by terrorists who invaded other people's land, stripped them of their homes, and built a spin-off of the ruthless British empire over their blood and bones.

The pilgrims were not pioneers, they were terrorists.

Intellect is supposed to enhance our humanity, not undermine it.

Live each day of your life, as proof of love and oneness. Cause inclusion defying prejudice, You are the cure for divisiveness.

When I am gone, Celebrate not October 9th, as the day Naskar was born. Celebrate it if you so desire, as the World Day of Integration. Tie a bracelet of assimilation, amongst buddies across culture. Pledge to have each other's back, even if deemed tradition's traitor.

Myths are healthy for creativity, If you can tell myths from reality. Imagination is almost a superpower, If you can wield it without conspiracy.

I don’t do publicity, I never will. My entire body of works thrives despite the absolute absence of publicity. I write in silence, I publish in silence, I continue the struggle in silence - in silence and alone. I don't have an industry to back me up - all I have is my dream - the dream of an undivided world.

One World Family (The Sonnet) My dream is, one world family, not one world government. My vision calls for a human world, beyond the battle of right and left. Trading Nato for Brics ain't advancement, Swapping Sam with Soviet isn't progress. If your mistrust of one colonizer makes you build alliance with another, it's not change but recurring regress. Change is only change when inhumanity is rejected altogether. If inhumanity merely changes carrier, it's not change but diplomatic disaster. Alliance after alliance, cult after cult, Politics over people will destroy the world. All alliance stem from interest not integration, Such geopolitical diplomacy will be our castration.

My dream is, one world family, not one world government.

El humano no puede odiar, el odio no puede ser humano.

Somos humanos y la humanidad es nuestra nacionalidad suprema - o mejor aún- la humanidad es nuestra única nacionalidad.

Mi sueño es una familia mundial, no un gobierno mundial.

Only when we stop putting our hopes in dunya, only when we stop trying to make the dunya into what it is not—and was never meant to be (jannah)—will this life finally stop breaking our hearts.

I was attached to people. I was attached to moments. I was attached to emotions. So I thought that the love of dunya just did not apply to me. What I didn’t realize was that people, moments, emotions are all a part of dunya.

Dunya-E-Dijital Hai Kisi Rango Se Bhari, Har Nazdeekiyon Mein Chhupi Hai E Kahani, Najaane Kaun Sachcha Hai, Kaun Farebi, Isey Samjho, Yeh Bhi Ek Natak Kehlaati Hai Kahani.

Islam means working for peace and welfare, Islamism is the ruin of synchronization. Sanatana Dharma is advaita sanskriti, that is, a culture of nonsectarianism, Hindutva means mindless saffronization.

Dunya!’ Raskolnikov stopped her, getting up and walking towards her. ‘This Razumikhin, Dmitry Prokofich, is a very good man.’ Dunya coloured slightly. ‘And?’ she asked after waiting a minute or so. ‘He’s a business-like, hard-working, honest man, capable of great love … Goodbye, Dunya.

Dunya, dearest! If I’m guilty, forgive me (although if I’m guilty, I cannot be forgiven). Goodbye! Let’s not argue! I can’t stay a moment longer. Don’t come after me, I beg you. I’ve another visit to make … Go now and be with mother. Please, I beg you! It’s the last and biggest thing I ask you. Don’t leave her for a moment. I’ve left her too worried to cope: she’ll either die or go mad. Stay with her! You’ll have Razumikhin with you. I told him … Don’t weep for me: I’ll try to be a man, and honest, for the rest of my life, even though I’m a murderer. One day, perhaps, you’ll hear my name. I won’t shame you, you’ll see. I’ll still prove … but for the time being, goodbye,’ he hurriedly concluded, noticing once again a strange expression in Dunya’s eyes at these final words and promises. ‘Why are you crying like that? Don’t cry, don’t! We’re not parting forever … Oh yes, wait! I forgot!

All of us are autumn leaves, ready to fall at any time.

Till you accept defeat out of your own free will, not a force in the world can dampen the daring advances of love and reason.

There is a karbala in each of you, there is a kurukshetra in each of you, there is a jerusalem and chanakkale in each of you. And till you accept defeat out of your own free will, not a force in the world can dampen the daring advances of love and reason.

My dream is one world family, not one world government – my dream is a world where civilians bear the responsibility for the affairs of their society according to their capacity and expertise, not some halfwit political overlords. The mission is to build a nonpartisan world, not to delegate all social responsibilities from countless little puny political nitwits to one giant global git.

Body cannot survive in the vacuum of space, Mind cannot survive in the vacuum of time. Brain cannot survive in the vacuum of skull, So it floats about in the fluid of spine.

Either right or human.

You don't need to be left wing to recognize the inhumanities of the right, just like you don't need to be a woman to recognize the atrocities of patriarchy.

You are the time, you are the tide. You are the vessel of love and light! You are the space, you are the ship. You are in a brain, light-years of sight!