“My dad had limitations. That’s what my good-hearted mom always told us. He had limitations, but he meant no harm. It was kind of her to say, but he did do harm.”

“Akhirnya, hujan turun, menghantam atap seng. Amiru memejamkan mata, lama, lambat laun dia mendengar sebuah irama, Dia tersenyum. Dia tersenyum karena ingin seperti ayahnya, yakni dapat menjadi senang karena hal-hal yang kecil. Seni menyenangi hal-hal yang biasa saja, begitu istilah ayahnya yang hanya tamat SD itu. Amiru ingin menguasai seni itu sampai tingkat ayahnya telah menguasainya sehingga menjadi orang yang dapat menertawakan kesusahan. Itulah ilmu tertinggi seni menyenangi hal-hal kecil. Itulah sabuk hitamnya.”

“Dad?” Jesus asked.”Yes son?” God replied.”Why does man have so many religions?” Jesus asked.”It’s because they all have different beliefs,” God said.”Why?” Jesus asked.”It’s because they have a free mind. It’s up to them to choose what they wish to believe in,” God said.”But, what if they forget about you?” Jesus asked his dad.God replied, “Even though they may forget about me, they will always remember me. Would you ever forget me?” God asked.”Never!” said Jesus, “How could I ever forget my father?””Exactly! And so it is for them,” God added.”

“As Adam brought death, so Christ brought life; as Adam is the father of mortality, so Christ is the father of immortality.”

“Death was kind.” He drew a sharp breath. “But no father should have to give such a kindness to his child.”

“The heavenly Father is faithful.”

“How can I begin to tell you how much I miss you without using those three common words that can’t even start to express the magnitude nor the depth of my emotions. How can I write in my own blood while wanting to revert its color. The color of blood is similar to “I miss you”. It has been raped by writers and lovers constantly, ever since Cain and Abel. I want to be able to create a new alphabet that can simply stand in front of you without bowing. I want to use new metaphors that would erupt like volcanoes between the phrases of my readers’ souls. Metaphors such as your absence is similar to eating salt straight from the shaker while thirst is devouring my tongue. Metaphors such as the lack of your presence is like being straddled behind the glass of my own senses.”