"That smile, that wasn’t planned nor programmed and sure as hell didn’t belong into their little insane arrangement."

می‌دونم دن منم از وادیم متنفرم ولی...آره‌‌. متاسفانه بعضی وقت‌ها لبخند می‌زنه.

"I’m not strange. I’m so fucking normal I make the Kremlin seem like a space ship."

"There’s joke I heard. Goes like this: “Glorious Soviet leaders Stalin, Khrushchev and Brezhnev are travelling by train. Suddenly, train grinds to halt. Stalin is first to try solve problem. He orders that engine driver be shot for sabotage and he deports co-driver to Siberia.
Train doesn’t move. Then it’s Khrushchev’s attempt. He brings co-driver back from Siberia and tells him, “You’ve been away for long time, but try to remember 276 which controls do what.” Engine driver can’t and train doesn’t move. Then, third, Brezhnev tries. He orders that all blinds be drawn across windows and that passengers start rocking back and forth in their seats—so train feels like moving."

"Hands shaking. Dan? But Dan never wore military gear. Dan blended in."

مرد اگه هرکسو که میارن تو یه دور سکته بزنی که نکنه دن باشه چهل سالگی رو نمی‌بینی

"Vadim asked the chaikhana owner whether he’d heard anything from the other foreigner, but there was nothing but a headshake, and something like “Allah be willing.”

Allah had nothing to do with it. From what Vadim knew, the radical Muslims stoned homosexuals."

“And by the way...it’s ‘homosexual’, not ‘homosexualist’, but I prefer ‘gay’.”

“Gay means joyful.” Vadim looked up. “Neither of us is that. Joyful."

ای بمیرم این خیلی درد داشت

Dan stilled, looked into those pale eyes, the colour still amazed him. “But I am. Joyful. Sometimes.”

“Not enough. Precious little joy in war.”

مننننن؟😭😭😭

بعد به مامانم گفتم طنزه و مجبورش کردم بشینه ببینه. به پهنای صورت اشک می‌ریختیم جفتمون. =))

this you?

همون لحظه من:

"If you find my body, will you bury it? Some rocks would do."

نه تیام تو گریه نمی‌کنی

نه تیام نه نه

Stay alive, he thought. Stay alive like you are now. I don’t want to carry your rotting body to Kabul and hand myself in to whatever bastard is your superior or handler there, but it must be Kabul. I can’t hand myself over. But I will.

نمی‌دونم از شدت این عشق ناسالمی که بهش داره گریه کنم، بخندم، سرمو بکوبم تو دیوار یا خودمو از ماشین پرت کنم پایین.