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He may be my half brother, but we're not related. A chasm of incommunicable worlds lies between us.

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Literature is my sandbox. In it I play, build my forts and castles, spend glorious time. It is the world outside that box that gives me trouble. I hav...more

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I also understand that you have to lie to yourself to survive in a bad marriage, you have to delude yourself if you want to carry on in this life.

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We rarely consider that we're also formed by the decisions we didn't make, by events that could have happened but didn't, or by our lack of choices, f...more

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By remaining constrained in one's environment or country or family, one has little chance of being other than the original prescription. By leaving, o...more

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I wonder if being sane means disregarding the chaos that is life, pretending only an infinitesimal segment of it is reality.

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Neither father nor son moved, but stayed face to face for hours and hours, neither looking away nor surrendering, until the sun finished its daily pil...more

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I was a tourist in a bizarre land. I was home.

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You can say that Lebanese has hundreds of lexemes for family relations. Family to the Lebanese is as snow to the Inuit.