Best 25 quotes of Hanna Abi Akl on MyQuotes

After all, some people you had to rehearse your words with.

Darling, I am an insane poet I could have killed For much less Than this; But instead I chose To write This poem

Darling, Never trust the words of a poet But hold onto his heart As he holds onto yours

For man always looked to hire a fool to amuse him without knowing he was one all along.

Going Back and Forth Between Here And the valley Of the dead To seek Hidden answers To eternal Questions

Honey, I write The dirty Way I’m not afraid Of going Into the darkest Corners Of the Word

I could hear the echo of chants bursting through the apartment walls depicting the loser that had come to be and reside within them.

I could still be more human in anything I wrote than by interacting with any of these people.

I didn’t share their pain. I didn’t share the pain of the children being bombarded in the region I came from, I didn’t share the cry of the Arabs, the liberty chants of the good and the gay and the faithful, the audacity of the newcomers with a champions’ mentality to pioneer and innovate and excel in a foreign country harboring average hopes for the lot of them, or at the very least, the majority of them.

I find pieces of her In songs, book quotes, Even in the dismal corners Of macabre streets Hosting nobody except Failed men and women

I look into your heart And burdening past Like sweet sunshine Reflected on the morning drops Of dew

I retain Those small Elements In bottles – And the bottle caps Are just the trail With no clear Beginning

I still owed the world a lot of things.

I tried to get out of it. I tried to be different from any other human being waiting on a decision he had no say in.

It was true: the government gave you everything—food, job, security, healthcare. The part they didn’t mention was that they took your thinking in exchange.

I wanted to believe things would work out for me as well.

Love is the small repetitive kisses I drew all over you face While your cold hands Found refuge in mine

No current. No electricity. No love. Just the barking of a mad dog like a shout in the sad dark.

Not all writers are crazy. Only the ones who are serious enough about their craft.

The game of writing wasn’t fair.

There are no superheroes In this part of the world Only mercenaries Who’ve held their breaths For so long

The verses are eternal, darling, But I am not

Through drunken holiness I still heard your voice

Throwing away Compassion Care And kindness We slowly seep Into rotting sewers

Tonight I will sleep in my bed Knowing she has landed Somewhere far from here But in my mind We are still sitting in that small cocktail booth My hand holding hers Our hearts connected And me Whispering In her ear: Wherever You Go, Go With all Your heart