The Gathering by Anne Enright
Vintage Books, 2008
It does not matter. I do not know the truth, or I do not know how to tell the truth. All I have are stories, night thoughts, the sudden convictions that uncertainty spawns. All I have are ravings, more like.
A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway
Penguin Books, 1963
If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them, so of course it kills them. The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will no special hurry.
The Jungle by Pooja Puri
Ink Road, 2017.
“Better to wait here than in the camp,” said Leila, kicking her legs against the wall. “I hate it there. I hate that they call it the Jungle.” She pointed to the houses. “We lived like that once. We went to school, went shopping, watched films. We didn’t ask to leave our lives. Why can’t they see? We’re just like them. But we might as well be from another planet.”