Ugh! How many stories about love, copulation, marriage and death already exist, not one of which tells the truth! How sick I am of well-constructed plots and brilliant writing! — Sadegh Hedayat Copy Share Image
I thought to myself: if it’s true that every person has a star in the sky, mine must be distant, dim, and absurd. Perhaps… — Sadegh Hedayat Copy Share
“Life as it proceeds reveals, cooly and dispassionately, what lies behind the mask that each man wears. It would seem that everyone possesses several… — Sadegh Hedayat Copy Share
“A story is only an outlet for frustrated aspirations, for aspirations which the story-teller conceives in accordance with a limited stock of spiritual resources… — Sadegh Hedayat Copy Share
[Death is] the best asylum for pains and sorrows and troubles and the injustices of life. — Sadegh Hedayat Copy Share
Ugh! How many stories about love, copulation, marriage and death already exist, not one of which tells the truth! How sick I am of… — Sadegh Hedayat Copy Share
“In the course of my life I have discovered that a fearful abyss lies between me and other people and have realized that my… — Sadegh Hedayat Copy Share
“We are the children of death and it is death that rescues us from the deceptions of life.” — Sadegh Hedayat Copy Share
“There are people whose death agonies begin at the age of twenty, while others die only at the very end, calmly and peacefully, like… — Sadegh Hedayat Copy Share
“The person that I had been existed no longer. If I had been able to conjure him up and speak to him he would… — Sadegh Hedayat Copy Share
I have finally learned that I must remain silent as much as possible. I must always keep my thoughts to myself. — Sadegh Hedayat Copy Share
“From the bottom of my heart I desired to surrender myself to the sleep of oblivion. If only oblivion were attainable, if it could… — Sadegh Hedayat Copy Share
“The sun, like a golden knife, was steadily paring away the edge of the shade beside the walls.The streets were enclosed between old, whitewashed… — Sadegh Hedayat Copy Share
In life there are certain sores which, like a kind of canker, slowly erode the soul in solitude. — Sadegh Hedayat Copy Share
