Now that your eyes are open, make the sun jealous with your burning passion to start the day. Make the sun jealous or stay in bed.

— Malak El Halabi

Our mornings were never "rise and shine." They were "rise and fight." They were loud and ravaging. Furthermore, they were heavy and unnerving, like the after-math of a war, with unresolved territorial disputes. Furthermore, they were never serene, but they were beautiful. More beautiful than the smile you wear when you step out of the shower, more tempting than the sight of you brewing coffee from across the kitchen bar, more promising than a glorious victory, bigger than all our tumultuous past. Bigger than you. Bigger than I.

— Malak El Halabi

Perhaps your notion of relationships is different from mine. You want something that would be a long term safe bet. I don't believe in that. I don't believe in eternity or safe bets. Furthermore, I believe in the unavoidable now and that the unavoidable now in the condition that it is pure with the best intention is eternity in itself. I want to love you and to feel your love as much as this is possible, as far as this takes us, and I hope it will take us far.

— Malak El Halabi

Relationships are like walls painted off-white and every time you’ll hurt me, it will be like resting dirty shoes on them, like bashing holes in the walls, one after the other. And then there will come a day, where the walls will be filled with so many holes, that there wouldn’t be any place left for you to place the tiniest kiss. Only then will I walk away for good.

— Malak El Halabi

Saturday evening, on a quiet lazy afternoon, I went to watch a bullfight in Las Vents, one of Madrid's most famous bullrings. I went there out of curiosity. I had long been haunted by the image of the matador with its custom-made TORRO suit, embroidered with golden threads, looking spectacular in his "suit of light" or trade de Lucas as they call it in Spain. Furthermore, I was curious to see the dance of death unfold in front of me, to test my humanity in the midst of blood and gold, and to see in which state my soul will come out of the arena, whether it will be shaken and stirred, furious and angry, or a little bit aware of the life embedded in every death. Being an avid fan of Hemingway, and a proponent of his famous sentence "About morals, I know only that what is moral is what you feel good after and what is immoral is what you feel bad after,” I went there willingly to test myself. I had heard atrocities about bullfighting, yet I had this immense desire to be part of what I partially had an inclination to call a bloody piece of cultural experience. As I sat there, in front of the empty arena, I felt a grandiose feeling of belonging to something bigger than anything I experienced during my stay in Spain. Few minutes and I'll be witnessing a painting being carefully drawn in front of me, few minutes and I will be part of an art form deeply entrenched in the Spanish cultural heritage: the art of defying death. But to sit there, and to watch the bull enter the arena… To watch one bull surrounded by a matador and his six assistants. To watch the matador confronting the bull with the Capote, performing a series of passes, just before the picador on a horse stabs the bull's neck, weakening the neck muscles and leading to the animal's first loss of blood... Starting a game with only one side having decided fully to engage in while making sure all the odds will be in the favor of him being a predetermined winner. It was this moment precisely that made me feel part of something immoral. The unfair rules of the game. The indifferent bull being begged to react, being pushed to the edge of fury. The bull, tired and peaceful. The bull, being teased relentlessly. The bull being pushed to a game he isn't interested in. And the matador getting credits for an unfair game he set. As I left the arena, people looked at me with mocking eyes. Yes, I went to watch a bull fight and yes the play of colors is marvelous. The matador’s costume is breathtaking and to be sitting in an arena fills your lungs with the sands of time. But to see the amount of claps the spill of blood is getting was beyond what I can endure. To hear the amount of claps injustice brings is astonishing. You understand a lot about human nature, about the wars taking place every day, about poverty and starvation. You understand a lot about racial discrimination and abuse (verbal and physical), sex trafficking, and everything that stirs the wounds of this worldwide open. Furthermore, you understand a lot about humans’ thirst for injustice and violence as a way to empower hidden insecurities. Replace the bull and replace the matador. And the arena will still be there. And you'll hear the claps. You've been hearing them ever since you opened your eyes.

— Malak El Halabi

There are people that damage you for life. The day they walked into your life will forever be a turning point you will use to label and count your years with... Your own BC and AD.

— Malak El Halabi

There are people you meet that light the darkest corners of your mind. They don't ask you questions. They don't intimidate you. Furthermore, they just look at you and they smile. Furthermore, they smile because they know what it feels like to have been where you are or because they have this inner ability to understand where you are coming from. Furthermore, they don't hold your hand. Furthermore, they don't hug you. Furthermore, they don't tell you it's going to be okay or shower you with words of love. Furthermore, they give you some of their time and a bit of their presence. And something only few people really master:To listen genuinely to what you have to say.

— Malak El Halabi

There is a hole in the heart called "absence". You live in it my dear.

— Malak El Halabi

There is something charming and peculiar about a beginning. You feel it, like the change of seasons, from winter to spring, from spring to summer. You feel it; the new blood pumping inside your veins. Furthermore, you feel it; a thousand butterflies fluttering around your fingers to help you fly. Furthermore, you feel it; on your lips, when you smile at the absurdities of life that suddenly make perfect sense. You smile... Because in every beginning, there is a rebirth. Because in every beginning, there is a layer of you that you just discovered. A layer you forgot was buried in you all this time. You smile because you are reminded of the immensity of fate. You smile because suddenly you feel so small, and you like it. So let's begin my dear. This life is beautiful.

— Malak El Halabi

There was warmth in his large piercing brown eyes. The kind of warmth that tucks a child into bed. The same kind of warmth that dries your wet hair on a rainy December afternoon.

— Malak El Halabi