Zahedul Islam

“It is easy to mourn the lives we aren't living. Easy to wish we'd developed other other talents, said yes to different offers. Easy to wish we'd worked harder, loved better, handled our finances more astutely, been more popular, stayed in the band, gone to Australia, said yes to the coffee or done more bloody yoga.
It takes no effort to miss the friends we didn't make and the work we didn't do the people we didn't do and the people we didn't marry and the children we didn't have. It is not difficult to see yourself through the lens of other people, and to wish you were all the different kaleidoscopic versions of you they wanted you to be. It is easy to regret, and keep regretting, ad infinitum, until our time runs out.
But it is not lives we regret not living that are the real problem. It is the regret itself. It's the regret that makes us shrivel and wither and feel like our own and other people's worst enemy.
We can't tell if any of those other versions would of been better or worse. Those lives are happening, it is true, but you are happening as well, and that is the happening we have to focus on.”
― Matt Haig, The Midnight Library

“মানুষের স্বভাব খানিকটা বোধহয় শামুকের মত। নিজের শক্ত খোলসের ভেতর মাঝে মাঝেই তাকে ঢুকে যেতে হয়। অতি প্রিয়জনের সঙ্গও সে সময় অসহ্যবোধ হয়”
― Humayun Ahmed, শ্রাবণ মেঘের দিন

“We entered the house of realization,
we witnessed the body.

The whirling skies, the many-layered earth,
the seventy-thousand veils,
we found in the body.

The night and the day, the planets,
the words inscribed on the Holy Tablets,
the hill that Moses climbed, the Temple,
and Israfil's trumpet, we observed in the body.

Torah, Psalms, Gospel, Quran --
what these books have to say,
we found in the body.

Everybody says these words of Yunus
are true. Truth is wherever you want it.
We found it all within the body.”
― Yunus Emre, The Drop That Became the Sea: Lyric Poems

“একজন বিখ্যাত মানুষ দিয়ে কি হয়? কিছুই হয় না। কিন্তু একশ জন খাঁটি মানুষ দিয়ে একটা দেশ পাল্টে দেয়া যায়।”
― মুহম্মদ জাফর ইকবাল