i began reading khaled hosseini's the kite runner late thursday night, and finished it early saturday morning--some time after 3am. (a warm thanks to black girl lost...in a book, who gifted me with this book while we were at vona.)
it's been some time since a novel evoked such pity, sadness, and anger in me, for each of the main characters, and at various stages in the story.
the kite runner is about that unflinching love, the one captured in hassan's declaration to his friend, amir: "For you a thousand times over." and it is about the betrayal (and eventual redemption) of that same love--beautifully told, skillfully layered: "I could step into that alley, stand up for Hassan...and accept whatever would happen to me. Or I could run. In the end, I ran...I actually apsired to cowardice, because...[n]othing was free in this world."
these lines stay with me: "And suddenly, just like that, hope became knowledge. I was going to win. It was just a matter of when."
i am wondering: what precedes the transformation of hope, from possibility to certainty?