Zoulfa Katouh Quotes

We don't have to stop living because we might die.

Every lemon will bring forth a child, and the lemons will never die out.

It reminds me that as long as the lemon trees grow, hope will never die.

Bury me before I bury you" I did.

Might. What a word. It holds infinite possibilities of a life that could have been. So many options stacked one on top of the other, like cards waiting for a player to pick and choose.

I stare at him for a few more minutes, my heart expanding with love for him. We'll be OK,' I whisper, letting the night capture my wish. We're owed that at least. A life of not scanning rooftops, of not being relieved the ceiling didn't cave in on us during the night. He and I are owed a love story that doesn't end in tragedy.

This is the land of your father, and his father before him. Your history is embedded in this soil. No country in the world will love you as yours does.

With all the destruction happening down there, it's so easy to forget the beauty that's up here. The sky is so beautiful after rainfall.

Death is an excellent teacher.

When I die, I'm going to tell God everything.

Survivor's skin is a remorse we are cursed to wear forever.

And to all the Syrians who loved, lost, lived, and died for Syria. We will come back home one day.

I want my mama. I want her to soothe away my sadness and kiss me while calling me ya omri and te’eburenee. My life and bury me.

Know that even in death, youʼre my life.

Do you see the colours, Salama?' Kenan whispers. The sunset is gorgeous, but it pales in comparison to him. He's drenched in the dying day's glow, a kaleidoscope of shades dancing on his face. Pink, orange, yellow, purple, red. Finally settling into an azure blue. It reminds me of Layla's painting. A colour so stark it would stain my fingers were I to touch it. As the sun sinks, in those few precious moments when the world is caught between day and night, something shifts between Kenan and me. 'Yes,' I breathe. 'Yes.

He and I are owed a love story that doesn't end in tragedy.

Salama, you've done everything. The rest is up to God. To fate. If you're meant to be in Munich, you will be, even if the whole military rips this place apart. And if you're not, then not even a private plane landing in the middle of Freedom Square to whisk you away will do that.

Empires have collapsed throughout history. They rise, they build, and they fall. Nothing lasts forever. Not even our pain.

He’s…honest. With everything. His thoughts, his expressions. He’s kind. It’s a rare kindness, Layla. I’m sure he still dreams. Maybe he’s the only one who still dreams. Maybe he’s the only one in the whole city who still dreams at night. And when he looks at me, I feel…I feel like I’m being seen, and there is…there is a tiny bit of hope.

Fear is a cruel thing. The way it distorts thoughts, transforming them from molehills into mountains.

كلُّ ليمونة ستنجب طفلاً ومحال أن ينتهي الليمون Every lemon will bring forth a child, and the lemons will never die out

It doesn't hurt for you to think about your future. We don't have to stop living because we might die. Anyone might die at any given moment, anywhere in the world. We're not an exception. We just see death more regularly than they do.

She grins and links her hand through mine. "That right there,' she whispers. "I want you to hold on to that. No matter what happens, you remember that this world is more than the agony it contains. We can have happiness, Salama. Maybe it doesn't come in a cookie-cutter format, but we will take the fragments and we will rebuild it.

You asked me if you could see colours again, Salama. If we deserve to see them. I think we do. I think you can. There's too little of it in death. In pain. But that's not the only thing in the world. That's not all that Syria has. Syria was once the center of the world. Inventions and discoveries were made here; they built the world. Our history is in the Al-Zahrawi Palace, in our mosques, in our earth

Just on the other side, safety- not freedom. I'm leaving freedom behind, and I can feel the earth's grief when I get out of the car. The tired weeds try to encircle my ankles. begging me to stay. They murmur stories about my ancestors. The ones who stood right where I stand. The ones whose discoveries and civilization encompassed the whole world. The one whose blood runs through my veins. My footprints sink deep into the soil where theirs have long since been washed away. They plead with me: It's your country. This earth belongs to me and my children.

There are enough people hurting you,” he whispers. “Don’t be one of them.

As an artist, I'm a student of life. Humor me, Salama.

We are stripped from our choices, so we latch onto what will ensure our survival.

There's an honest joy in his voice, but for the first time tonight, I can see his real face behind the fragments he's had to glue back together over and over again.

For every life I can’t save during my shift, one more drop of blood becomes a part of me. No matter how many times I wash my hands, our martyrs’ blood seeps beneath my skin, into my cells. By now it’s probably encoded in my DNA.

Time is the best medicine to turn our bleeding wounds to scars, and our bodies might forget the trauma, our eyes might learn to see colours as they should be seen, but the cure doesn't extend to our souls.

I finally realize that this boy with the old sweater and the disheveled brown hair who wears his heart on his sleeve is beautiful.

Grief isn't constant. It weavers, tugging and letting go like the waves on the sea.

Don’t focus on the darkness and sadness,” she says, and I glance up at her. She smiles warmly. “If you do, you won’t see the light even if it’s staring you in the face.

I nod and hold on to this moment, tucking it in my heart to revisit when the sadness comes back.

Don’t focus on the darkness and sadness,” ... “If you do, you won’t see the light even if it’s staring you in the face.

I’ll make it as soon as I’m done with this.” I smiled. “Why kanafeh, though?” Mama’s lips held a secret. “Because you’re so good at it and I believe in fate.

Time doesn’t forgive our sins,

I love you too.

I catch it before it disappears and fold it into my heart to replay later when I’m alone.

Takdir memang memiliki sulur-sulur benangnya, tetapi kitalah yang merajutnya dengan tindakan dan pilihan kita. Keimananku pada takdir tidak membuatku pasif.

Prayers are answered when rain falls,” she reminds me.

I’m exhausted,” I whisper. “Me too,” Kenan replies. I shake my head. “No. I’m exhausted from all of this. I’m exhausted we’re suffocating and no one gives the slightest bit of a damn. I’m exhausted we’re not even an afterthought. I’m exhausted we can’t even have basic human rights. I’m exhausted, Kenan.

No matter what happens, you remember that this world is more than the agony it contains. We can have happiness, Salama. Maybe it doesn’t come in a cookie-cutter format, but we will take the fragments and we will rebuild it.

We held our heads high and planted lemon trees in acts of defiance, praying that when they came for us, it’d be a bullet to the head. Because that was far more merciful than what awaited in the bowels of their prison system.

The world is not sweet or kind. The ones outside are waiting to eat us and pick their teeth with our bones. That’s what they’ll do to your siblings. So we do everything to make sure we and our loved ones survive. Whatever it takes.

You see the military beating people up in the streets, dragging them away and murdering them, and you see your kid siblings trying to warm themselves at night, and you think it can't get any worse. But this, Salama, this is where hope dies. The fact they don't know what's going on because how could they? They're babies. They're just babies.

With the military deliberately targeting doctors, they became as scarce as laughter.

I know this because I performed surgeries without anesthesia today: People are dying from hemorrhages and infections and there’s no way for me to help them.

Cracked road, the asphalt reduced to rubble. Gray buildings hollowed and decaying as the elements try to finish what the military’s bombs started. Utter and absolute destruction.

me. I don’t recoil, used to the horror, but it amplifies the anguish in my heart.

All of them bearing bullet holes that decorate the walls like deadly art.

that

I’m sure the martyrs’ ghosts roam the abandoned homes and streets, their fingers running across the flags of the revolution painted on the walls.

I won’t let them own my fears.

Kau tidak akan bisa menolong siapapun kalau kau tidak menolong dirimu sendiri terlebih dahulu.

Jika ada satu hal yang ditakuti oleh orang-orang, itu adalah dilupakan. Itu ketakutan yang tidak rasional, bukan?

I clear my throat. "There are still more patients--" "Your life is just as important as theirs," he interrupts, his voice leaving no room for negotiation. "Your. Life. Is. Just. As. Important.

We fight while we're still here, Salama, because this is our country. This is the land of your father, and his father before him. Your history is embedded in this soil. No country in the world will love you as yours does.

It didn’t matter that I was eighteen years old. It didn’t matter that my medical experience was confined to the words in my textbooks. All of that was remedied as the first body was laid out before me to be stitched up. Death is an excellent teacher.

I want you to hold on to that. no matter what happens you remember that this world is more than the Agony it contains. we can have happiness , salama. may be it doesn't come in a Cookie Cutter format but will take the fragments and we will rebuild it

My belief in what’s meant to be doesn’t make me a passive player. No. I fight and fight and fight for my life.

It may scar.” I nod, fussing with my sleeves, needing the comfort, so I ask, “Would you be okay with that?” He lets out an incredulous laugh. “My wife has a battle scar. She’s a badass.

A tear blooms in the corner of her eye, slides down her cheek, and I catch it before it reaches her chin.

bite back a laugh. I know this moment of happiness will trickle by like sand in an hourglass, but I want to make each second count.

Her time in Syria would be a dream she dreamed in the womb. One that exists only in the stories her mother and I tell her. Until one day she can come back to her country and grow the lemon trees.

Promise me you’ll look for the joy.” She smiles sadly. “The memories are sweeter that way.

The thing is, hearing stories about the ocean's rage is different from being caught in the middle of the angry waves.

If we stay, we die”, Kenan says in a low tone. “And if we leave, we might die.

But then, perhaps, even without evidence a sliver of a chance at survival is better than living at the mercy of genocide.

What are you talking about?” I mumble. “I’m saying what’s happening now, as horrible as it is, isn’t the end of the world. Change is difficult, and it’s different depending on what needs to be changed. Look, I’ll even science it up for you. If a cancer has spread, wouldn’t whatever needs to be done to remove it be different than for something like a wart?

We fight while we’re still here, Salama, because this is our country. This is the land of your father, and his father before him. Your history is embedded in this soil. No country in the world will love you as yours does.

Because when you see the people who are dying. When you see the mutilated children and you hear them crying with fear and pain. Maybe then you’ll know how lucky you are that you are okay. That you can leave.

My nervous system is going haywire, zapping electric impulses all through my body that I can’t seem to calm down, no

The sunset is gorgeous, but it pales in comparison to him.

His voice reminds me of the freezing water I splash over myself when I come home drenched in the martyrs’ blood. It’s stones weighing on my chest, sinking me to the earth below. It’s heavy as a humid day and deafening as the bombs the military throws on us. It’s what our hospital is built on, and the wordless sounds we make.

The Arab proverb has never been truer: The worst of outcomes is what is most hilarious.

Don’t focus on the darkness and sadness,’ she says, and I glance up at her. She smiles warmly. ‘If you do, you won’t see the light, even if it’s staring you in the face.

That right there,” she whispers. “I want you to hold on to that. No matter what happens, you remember that this world is more than the agony it contains. We can have happiness, Salama. Maybe it doesn’t come in a cookie-cutter format, but we will take the fragments and we will rebuild it.

Jangan hanya berfokus pada kegelapan dan kesedihan. Kalau kau melakukan itu, kau tidak akan bisa melihat cahaya, bahkan yang menyoroti wajahmu.

My terror has mutated in my mind, bestowed with a life and a voice that never fail to show up each night.

He’s drenched in the dying day’s glow, a kaleidoscope of shades dancing on his face. Pink, orange, yellow, purple, red.

When I leave, it won’t be easy. It’s going to shred my heart to ribbons and all the pieces will be scattered along Syria’s shore, with the cries of my people haunting me till the day I die.

I'm saying what's happening now, as horrible as it is, isn't the end of the world. Change is difficult, and it's different depending on what needs to be changed.

You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be happy here. Because if you won't try it in Syria, then you won't try it in Germany. Getting to Europe won't solve your problems

We never know if we’ll see each other again. Every moment is a goodbye.

He bites his lip. “Please take of yourself.” I wrap my arms around my middle. “I am.” He smiles sadly. “Are you?

I’m on the balcony, bathing in the soft glow and f gazing at the corner I’ve transformed into a small garden. Daises. Honeysuckles. Peonies. Lavender. I’ve grown them all myself, tending to their roots and petals with care, murmuring words of love.

I spent the rest of the night trying to not look over at the boy with the greenest eyes, who was busy in his laptop. He was alone and there was a large plate with four servings of knafeh on the table. I did a double take, amazed that someone would be able to eat all of that and not fall into a sugar coma.

Moartea este un sfârșit mult mai milos decât a trăi în fiecare zi în agonie.

Chiar dacă amintirile dor, este singura modalitate prin care putem să-i vedem pe cei dragi.

Nu trebuie să ne oprim din viață pentru că am putea muri. Oricine poate muri în orice moment, oriunde în lume. Nu suntem o excepție. Doar că vedem moartea mai regulat decât ei.

Timpul este cel mai bun medicament pentru a ne transforma rănile care sângerează în cicatrici, iar corpurile noastre ar putea uita trauma, ochii noștri ar putea învăța să vadă culorile așa cum ar trebui să fie văzute, dar acest leac nu se extinde la sufletul nostru. Nu este. Timpul nu ne iartă păcatele și nici nu readuce morții.

Your. Life. Is. Just. As. Important.

I

We weave distractions between the bouts of agony.

Let’s get married today.

Karena kau manusia. Karena apa pun itu, kau memiliki hati yang lembut yang mudah sekali terluka. Karena kau merasa.

We can have happiness, Salama. Maybe it doesn't come in a cookie-cutter format, but we will take the fragments and we will rebuild it.

I feel the baby kicking against her stomach. Only fabric, layers of skin, and placental fluid separate it from the terrors of this world.