Orhan Pamuk

Tell me then, does love make one a fool or do only fools fall in love?

When you love a city and have explored it frequently on foot, your body, not to mention your soul, gets to know the streets so well after a number of years that in a fit of melancholy, perhaps stirred by a light snow falling ever so sorrowfully, you'll discover your legs carrying you of their own accord toward one of your favorite promontories.

Books, which we mistake for consolation, only add depth to our sorrow.

All great masters, in their work, seek that profound void within color and outside time.

The drinking of coffee is an absolute sin! Our Glorious Prophet did not partake of coffee because he knew it dulled the intellect, caused ulcers, hernia and sterility; he understood that coffee was nothing but the Devil's ruse.

For if a lover's face survives emblazoned on your heart, the world is still your home.

What was venerated as style was nothing more than an imperfection or flaw that revealed the guilty hand.

In actuality, we don’t look for smiles in pictures of bliss, but rather, for the happiness in life itself. Painters know this, but this is precisely what they cannot depict. That’s why they substitute the joy of seeing for the joy of life.

Are you an angel that approaching you should be so terrifying?