BOOK REVIEW : Milk and Honey by Rupi Kaur

GOODREADS: Milk and honey’ is a collection of poetry and prose about survival. About the experience of violence, abuse, love, loss, and femininity. It is split into four chapters, and each chapter serves a different purpose. Deals with a different pain. Heals a different heartache. ‘milk and honey’ takes readers through a journey of the most bitter moments in life and finds sweetness in them because there is sweetness everywhere if you are just willing to look.

  • He placed his hands on my mind before reaching for my waist, my hips or my lips. He didn’t call me beautiful first, he called me exquisite.
  • You might not have been my first love but you were the love that made all the other loves irrelevant.
  • You’d rather have the darkest parts of him than have nothing.
  • It must hurt to know I am your most beautiful regret.
  • You must not have to make them want you. They must want you themselves.
  • The thing worth holding on to would not have let go.
  • When you are broken and he has left you, do not question whether you were enough. The problem was, you were so enough he was not able to carry it.
  • I will not have you build me into your life when what I want is to build a life with you.
  • I don’t want to be friends with you. I want all of you.
  • Accept yourself as you were designed.
  • Losing you was the becoming of myself.
  • The world gives you so much pain and here you are, making gold of it.
  • You must never trade honest for relatability.

To be quite honest, I was a bit disappointed. I guess, maybe because I was in complete awe of the other book, the sun and her flowers that I expected so much more from this. There are some I was able to relate with, but overall, the bookmarks can be counted. (if you know what I mean. But then again, I would still read her books. ❤


It started out as something I had to read because it was on top of the list. But I grew fond of it, Surprisingly.

Kite Runner is about family, war, friendship, kindness, oppression, guilt, regret and redemption.

The story revolves around a boy named Amir Jan whose closest friend was the son of their servant, a Hazara as they call them. His closest friend was a Hazara named Hassan the son of Ali. Ali and Baba, Amir Jan’s father grew up together just as Hassan and Amir Jan also grew up in the same house and has fed in the same breasts. Hassan has always showed his affection, loyalty and respect to Amir Jan while several events showed that Amir Jan only sees Hassan as their servant. One day, their friendship was tested and that day was the start of how Amir Jan’s guilt will eat him up until the day Hassan will need him after several years.


I. Memorable Lines

  1. The past claws its way out.
  2. For you, a thousand times over.
  3. There is a way to be good again.
  4. Attention shifted to him like sunflowers turning to the sun.
  5. You can’t love a person that way without fearing him too.
  6. Children aren’t coloring books. You don’t get to fill them with your favorite colors.
  7. A boy who won’t stand up for himself becomes a man who can’t stand up to anything.
  8. Because history isn’t easy to overcome.
  9. Because words are secret doorways.
  10. Seconds plodded by each separated from the next by an eternity.
  11. And that’s the thing about people who mean everything they say, they think everyone else does too.
  12. But better to get hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie.
  13. I felt his glare on me like the heat of a blistering sun.
  14. In the end, the world always wins.
  15. War doesn’t negate decency. It demands it.
  16. I only knew the memory lived in me, a perfectly encapsulated morsel of good past, a brushstroke of color on the gray, barren canvas that our lives had become.
  17. It may be unfair, but sometimes what happens in a few days, sometimes even a single day can change the course of a lifetime.
  18. Sad stories make good books.
  19. The benefit of her unblinking love.
  20. My heart was doing pirouettes in my chest
  21. Often, we wallow in too much self pity. We give in to loss, to suffering accept it as a fact of life, even see it as a necessary.
  22. There is only what you do and what you don’t do.
  23. It always hurts more to have and lose than to not have in the first place.
  24. A world of thanks.
  25. Perspective was a luxury when your head was constantly buzzing with a swarm of demons.
  26. I wondered it that was how forgiveness budded, not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.


  1. That Hassan would grow up illiterate like Ali and most Hazaras. Hazaras had been decided that minute he had been born, perhaps even the moment he had been conceived.
    1. She said, ‘’I’m so afraid’.  I said, ‘Why?’’

    Because I’m so profoundly happy. Happiness like this is frightening. They only let you be this happy if they’re preparing to take something from you.


  1. Most days I worshiped baba with an intensity approaching the religious. But right then, I wished I could open my veins and drain his cursed blood from my body.
  2. Baba and I lived in the same house, but in different spheres of existence.
  3. I was going to win and I was going to run the last kite. Then I’d bring it home and show it to baba. Show him once and for all that his son was worthy. Then maybe my life as a ghost in this house would finally be over.
  4. Maybe baba would even read one of my stories. I’d write him a hundred if I though he’d read one.
  5. And that right there was the single greatest moment of my twelve years of life, seeing baba on that roof, proud of me at last.


  1. Remember Amir Agha. There’s no monster, just a beautiful day.
  2. ‘’Hassan, come back with the last kite!’’ ‘’For you, a thousand times over!’’
  3. When Hassan said ”I did, Amir Agha”. He admitted to stealing the money Amir Jan placed under his pillow.
  4. When Hassan assaulted and threatened Assef with his sling shot when Assef was about to beat the crap out of Amir Jan.
  5. When Hassan said ”It’s the most beautiful story I have ever heard! Did you write that, Amir Jan?” about the first story Amir Jan wrote.
  6. All the mornings he prepared his breakfast and ironed his clothes.


  1. ‘’Baba, have you ever thought about getting new servants?
  2. ‘’What would you od if I hit you with this?(pomegranate) I hurled the pomegranate at him. It struck him in the chest, exploded in a spray of red pulp. ‘’Hit me back’’ I snapped. Hassan did pick up a pomegranate. He walked towards me, opened it and crushed it against his forehead. ‘’There, are you satisfied? Do you feel better now?’’.
  3. I took a couple of the envelopes of cash from the pile of gifts and my watch. I went downstairs and entered Ali and Hassan’s living quarters. I lifted Hassan’s mattress and planted the watch and the cash.
  4. When Amir Jan played at Hassan. Teaching him the opposite meaning of words just because he knows Hassan has no ability to read nor write.
  5. When Amir Jan purposedly making up the rest of the story in the book making it appear he has been reading from the book.
  6. When Amir Jan stood there, doing nothing, being coward, just staring and watching at Assef pumping his manhood at the rear end of Hassan.

It was only a smile, nothing more. It didn’t make everything all right; it didn’t make anything all right. Only a smile. A tiny thing. A leaf in the woods, shaking in the wake of a startled bird’s flight.

But I’ll take it. With open arms. Because when the spring comes, it melts the snow one flake at a time.

BOOK REVIEW : This is how you lose her – Junot Diaz

The truth is there ain’t no relationship in the world that doesn’t hit turbulence.

Even if you admit that she’s you heart, your everything. You cheat on her like the fucking cheating liar you really are.

When your girlfriend finds out that you boned someone else, it’s like a grenade. It detonates everything – past, present and future.

You try every trick in the book to keep her. You write her letters. And every hour like clockwork you say that you’re so sorry. You try it all, But one day she will simply sit up in bed and say, No more.

For awhile, you hunt the city. You phone her everyday and leave messages which she doesn’t answer. You write her long, sensitive letters, which she returned unopened. You even show up at her apartment at odd hours and at her job. You never see her again.

At first, you pretend it don’t matter. For a few weeks, you almost believe it. You run around around with the sluts like it’s the good old days, like nothing has happened. You’re feeling terribly guilty and terribly alone. You keep writing letters to her, waiting for the day that you can hand them to her. You also keep fucking everything that moves.

You end up being alone during holidays with no food, not with anyone. The ex, as you’re now calling her always cooked and set aside all the wings for you. You figure that’s as bad as it gets. A depression rolls over you, so profound you doubt there is a name for it. It feels like you’re being slowly pincered apart, atom by atom.

You stop doing almost everything. You try to describe it. Like someone flew a plane into your soul. Like someone flew two planes into your soul. Your little letters become more and more pathetic. ‘Please, please come back’.

You put all away the old pictures of her. No one will ever be like her. But you find yourself a girl anyway.

You want to turn over a new leaf. Takes you a bit – but you finally break clear and when you do, you feel lighter. You finally go on dates.

You get numbers but nothing you would take home to the family. You’re out all the time but no one seems to be biting. ”I think I need a break from the bitches”.

You take your break. You try to get back to your work. You start three novels. You get serious about your classes and you take up running. Every time you think about your EX, every time the loneliness rears up in you like seething, you tie on your shoes and run.

Out of nowhere, you call the ex, but of course she doesn’t pick you up. The fact that she doesn’t change her number gives you some strange hope.

You start doing push-ups and pull-ups and even some Yoga. You start having dinner with a couple of girls. You eventually erase her contact info from your phone but not the pictures of her in bed while she was naked and asleep.

Of course you dream about her. You want her to say your name, to touch you, but she doesn’t.

You want to move on. You work harder than you’ve ever worked at everything. You keep waiting for the heaviness to leave you. You keep waiting for the moment you never think about the EX again. It doesn’t come.

There are surprises and there are surprises and then there is this. You didn’t think anything could hurt so bad. You are surprised at what a fucking chickenshit coward you are. It kills you to admit it but it’s true. How long does it usually take to get over it?

The day you decide it;s over, it’s over. You never get over it.

Our relationship wasn’t the sun, the moon and the stars, but it wasn’t bullshit either. A start is all we ever get.

Tears are words that need to be written.

– from my well loved and famous author, Paulo Coelho

When words fail is, tears jump to the rescue. These are expressions of what our hearts can no longer keep in, of thoughts that would hurt too much if ever verbalized. It releases bottled up joy, sorrow, anguish and pain.

Emotional tears have hormones, leucine enkephalin, a natural painkiller. That’s why when we cry our hearts out, we actually do feel a lot better.

(Conchita Razon)

i love you. There is no close substitute to what we have. No matter how many times we tell ourselves that we are hurting too much, I personally can’t find the will in me to really let you go.


– I got this from mien. I may never be able to express to you how I felt when you decided to leave, but this is one of the closest to how i felt.  It doesn’t matter that you left. All I know is the moment you show any interest, even the slightest bit of attention, I know I’ll be back to square one. -chick-