Why a slow death in a strange country if you can die on the threshold of your own house?Refugees don’t exist.Only blown away people exist,people blown by the windall over the world.

People whose lives were determined for them by a group of politicians whose severing, dissecting and reattaching of their lands has turned their world into a monster that not even its creator can control.

When an entire segment of the world is burned and reduced to a lawless battleground for thugs and mercenaries, a land where government does not exist, where the slate of history is being wiped out...

As politicians weigh courses of action against their political agendas the death toll weighs heavy on the conscience of the world. The once vibrant Syrian streets are now haunted by the souls of the innocent...

Lose your freedom, and become a slave by borrowing.

An exile, said Zafar, is a refugee with a library.