You Get A Strange Feeling When You're

I Finally Returned To Iran In 1979, When I Got My Degree In English And American Literature, And Stayed For 18 Years In The Islamic Republic.

Imagine You Are Walking Down A Leafy Path...the Sun Is Receding, And You Are Walking Alone, Caressed By The Breezy Light Of The Late Afternoon. Then Suddenly, You Feel A Large Drop On Your Right Arm. Is It Raining? You Look Up. The Sky Is Still Deceptively Sunny...seconds Later Another Drop. Then, With The Sun Still Perched In The Sky, You Are Drenched In A Shower Of Rain. This Is How Memories Invade Me, Abruptly And Unexpectedly.

The Existence Of The Writer Is To Write, And To Write Is To Tell The Truth.

Every Fairy Tale Offers The Potential To Surpass Present Limits, So In A Sense The Fairy Tale Offers You Freedoms That Reality Denies.

With Fear Come The Lies And The Justifications That, No Matter How Convincing, Lower Our Self-esteem.