Broken April, Ismail Kadare, pg.
And all this had begun seventy years ago, on a cold October night , When a man had knocked
their door, “Who was that man” Gjorg had asked as a little boy when for the first time he had
heard the story of the knocking at that door. The question would be repeated many times in their
house, at that time and later on, and no one would ever answer it. For no one had ever known
who that man was. And even now, Gjorg could not believe that anyone had actually knocked at
their door. It was easier for him to imagine that a ghost had knocked, or fate itself, rather than
unknown traveler.31
Two fingers-breadth of honor have been stamped on our forehead by almighty God” In the
weeks that followed, Gjorg repeated to himself hundreds of times the words of the Code that his
father had recited to him that day. “Whiten or further besmirch your dirty face, as you please. It
is up to you to be a man or not.” 46
He had tasted both, and if someone had to ask him now, choose one or the other,’ Gjorg would
certainly have hesitated. Perhaps it took years to get use to its absence. The mechanism of the
blood feud was such that even it freed you, it kept you bound to it in spirit for a long time.49
No matter how one dealt with the Code one always ended up there. 76
Thus I took flight from Babylon, thought for what reason I did all this I cannot say; doubtless it
was written in the stars before the day of my birth, and was inevitable 167
I told myself that all had been written in the stars long before the day of my birth, and this
brought me consolation.221
All was written in the stars before ever I was born, and I was predestined to be a stranger in the
world.343
The