A Writer In Someone Who Spends Years

My Religion Is Complicated. Literature Is My True Religion. After All, I Come From A Completely Non-religious Family.

With The Death Of My Father, It Wasn't Just The Objects Of Everyday Life That Had Changed; Even The Most Ordinary Street Scenes Had Become Irreplaceable Mementos Of A Lost World Whose Every Detail Figured In The Meaning Of The Whole.

Hüzün Does Not Just Paralyze The Inhabitants Of Instanbul, It Also Gives Them Poetic License To Be Paralyzed.

Most Of The Time It's Not The Europeans Who Belittle Us. What Happens When We Look At Them Is That We Belittle Ourselves. When We Undertake The Pilgrimage, It's Not Just To Escape The Tyranny At Home But Also To Reach To The Depths Of Our Souls. The Day Arrives When The Guilty Must Return To Save Those Who Could Not Find The Courage To Leave.

For The Traveler We See Leaning On His Neighbor Is An Honest And Well-meaning Man And Full Of Melancholy, Like Those Chekhov Characters So Laden With Virtues That They Never Know Success In Life.