All My Rage Quotes
"I like to write," I finally say. "But I can’t do anything with that. All I do is journal."
"That doesn’t mean you can’t do anything with it," she says.
"How are you going to run this place if you’re working and going to school?"
"I’m looking for something after school," I say.
"Broke, huh? I’ve been there, man. There are other ways to make money, though."
"I’m sorry," I say. "Don’t go. Please. I didn’t mean to upset you—"
"What’s with the makeup?" I imitate myself as I flip on the outside lights. "Salahudin, you dumbass."
"She’s not gonna be resurrected." I dig my fingers into the counter so hard that I think my nails might pop off.
"He’s a drunk. It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud."
"Look, I’ve got to take the car. That’s my job."
"How do I fix it all? How do I bring her back and do it over?"
"If your dad picks up the car," the repo guy finally says, "tell him he’s gotta show up sober."
"Because Jesus Christ is my lord and savior," and she said, "Well, I have nothing against Jesus, he was a great man. I think he would like my scarf."
"I’ll deal with the laundry," she says. "Let’s get you inside."
"I need five grand by April fifteenth," I go on, "or the bank’s taking the Clouds’ Rest."
"Look, we can’t fix the money problem right now," Noor says. "But we can fix this."
"The essay is the most important part of the application."
"There’s only two schools left. My essays were awful—"
"Noor." He steps in front of me. "Talk to me."
"I’m here, Abu." I hold his cold, limp hands in mine. "Don’t worry. I’m going to take care of everything."
"Your husband is a whore’s son, did you know? But Junaid—Junaid is my hero."
"God knows. What she does or does not do is not for you to judge, Misbah."
"I worry she will destroy herself. I worry I cannot save her."
"I haven’t gotten in anywhere," I finally whisper. "I applied to seven schools but I got rejected from five of them. There’s only UCLA and Northwestern left."
"Please let Ama be at peace. Please let Noor get into college. Please let Abu stop drinking. Please let us keep the Clouds’ Rest."
"What if a parent doesn’t do that?" I say. "What if the parent’s actions hurt their child?"
"We all have our struggles, Noor," Shafiq says. "Uncle Toufiq’s is heavy. I should have visited him. There might not be many Muslims here in Juniper, but none of us should feel alone. Thank you for reminding me."
"I guess that’s why I don’t bother coming in softly when I get to Chachu’s house. Why I walk into the living room, even though going straight to my room is smarter."
"Don’t think it. Shut up. Shut up, Noor. Don’t think it."
"Elizabeth Bishop lost lots of things. Keys, and houses, her girlfriend. She saw the truth about loss. She learned that the more you lose, the better you get at it. The better you get, the less it hurts."
"My father fidgets like a surly kindergartner. It’s embarrassing and I practically tear holes in my palms, my fists are curled so tight."
"Forgive, Misbah Auntie told me when she was dying. Her last attempt to guide me, to help me. Forgive."
"This life is jihad—struggle,_" Shafiq says. "Sometimes the struggle is more than any sane person can bear. I won’t judge your father for his jihad, Salahudin. How dare I, when I couldn’t begin to understand it?"
"From the kitchen window, the rain blurred the motel. The screaming fluorescent lights seemed quieter. The brassy room numbers became small orange fish, midswim."
"Pakoras and green chutney were made for the rain."
"Grandmothers who threw their grandchildren out. What a strange country America was."
"Why do you have all this shit in your backpack?"
"I care because I'm an actual citizen of this country and my parents pay taxes to keep people like you out."
"Everything falls away. There are no shadows between us."
"The grass around us ripples and sings an ode to Noor, the moon lights her hair blue."
"Remember this, I think, almost frantic. Remember."
"Noor, I whisper. We should stop. If we don’t, we might, um—"
"We’re not supposed to do this, she says. You know. Religiously. Not unless we’re . . ."
"Anyway, there are probably other things God gets more upset about than two people kissing. Wars. Bombings. Murders."
"A part of me is broken. Saying I’m not erases the fact that someone did something horrible to me."
"Famine comes when you lament the flood. It could always be worse."
"How can the worst day of your life also be the best?"
"I wish I could beam her to a hospital in the blink of an eye."
"I wonder if it will be like this when I am twenty-eight and thirty-eight and one hundred and eight."
"I’m sorry for this, I say. For coming into your house—"
"I’m sorry we didn’t see sooner, he says. We should have."
"Because what religion—many religions, really—offers is comfort when it’s all too much."
"I crossed my arms. He loves stories, I said. He will learn."
"The weight of today, of yesterday, is too much. I want a different life."
"My job is to defend you, Salahudin," he whispers as the judge riffles through a stack of papers. "Even if that means defending you from yourself. Let me do my job."
"How many times do I have to tell you 'no'?" she finally says. "Noor Riaz had no access to any pharmaceuticals. She is a great hospital aide. One day, she'll make a great doctor."
"Since I was six," Noor says. "We met in first grade. I didn't speak any English and he was the only kid who didn't seem to mind."
"You think I can't fix this," I think, "but I can. I will. I swear it."
"I didn’t tell Noor I was selling drugs. She didn’t know I was selling drugs. I panicked because I knew if I was taken out of the car and searched, I’d be in trouble."
"If we are lost, God is like water," I whisper, "finding the unknowable path when we cannot."
"Altruism isn’t something I see often, in or out of the courtroom."
"Sometimes in life you lose things. Parents. Places. Friends."
"But the body remembers," Dr. Ellis glances away. "But the body heals, too, Salahudin. Promise me you'll give yours that chance."
"Forgive me?" I whisper. "Always," she says. "Forgive me?" "Depends," I say, "on whether you’ll stop making fun of my jokes."