A few gems from  Naguib Mahfouz’s Sugar Street.

“Viewed from another perspective, love seemed to him a dictator, and Egypt’s political life had taught him to hate dictatorship with all his heart.  At his aunt Jalila’s house, he surrendered his body to Atiya but then quickly reclaimed it, as if nothing had happened. This girl, shielded by her modesty, would be satisfied with nothing less than possessing his spirit and his body, forever. Afterward, there would only be one course for him to pursue:  the bitter struggle to earn a living to support his wife and children properly – a bizarre destiny transforming an existence rife with exalted concerns into nothing more than a means of “gaining” a living. The Indian sadhu might be a fool or a lunatic but was at least a thousand times wiser than a man up to his ears in making a living.”

“Lust is a tyrannical beauty readily felled by disgust. The heart cries out as it vainly searches in agonizing despair for eternal bliss. Complaints are endless. Life is a vast swindle. To be able to accept this deception gracefully, we must assume that life contains some secret wisdom. We’re like an actor, who while conscious of the deceit implicit in his role onstage, worships his craft.”

“In his living dictionary, the only meaning for love was pain…an astonishing pain that set the soul on fire. By the light of its raging flames amazing secrets of life became visible, but it left behind only rubble.”

“In his powerful voice, Abd al-Muni’m said,’ We’re not merely an organization dedicated to teaching and preaching. We attempt to understand Islam as God intended it to be: religion, a way of life, a code of law, and a political system.’ “

“Is talk like this appropriate for the twentieth century?’’

The forceful voice answered,”And for the hundred and twentieth century too.”

“Confronted by democracy, Fascism, and Communism, we’re dumbfounded. Then their's this new calamity!”