Quotes from Ahdaf Soueif

Even God would say"Finish the task you have undertaken". He would never recommend breaking her mother's heart, damaging her parents' lives. "Your mother and then your mother and then your mother," the Prophet had said, "and then your father." But what about her own life? What is to become of that?

It was enough to see her face light up when we heard the sounds that told us my brother was come home, or to catch the sudden tenderness that came into is eyes when he looked at he, to realise the depth of the love that had grown between those two strange hearts.

But she was not able to bring him peace of mind. It was as though he was angry that his happy private life should exist within the public circumstances that he hated. Or as though he longed that his personal happiness should extend to encompass all of Egypt.

But I believe that even without the consideration of his family he would find it impossible to live abroad. He would be a man without a purpose; for his purpose, his vocation, is Egypt.

If we could shrink the Earth's population to a village of 100 people, with all existing human ratios staying the same, it would look like this: There would be 57 Asians, 21 Europeans, 14 from the Americas and 8 Africans. 80 would live in substandard housing. 70 would be unable to read. 50 would suffer from malnutrition. 50 per cent of the entire world's wealth would be in the hands of only 6 people. And all 6 would be citizens of the United States. Isabel

She had been wrong to think it wouldn't matter that much to him, yes, he took her for granted, of course he did , but he took her for granted - not like an old coat in the corner of a dark cupboard, as she'd put it to herself , but like the very air that he breathed .

You know, I've been thinking: all the women in the books you like -- Sartre and Camus and all that -- they don't really exist. Not as people. They're only there to wait for the men. To love them and be loved back or not -- mostly not; to be beaten up or killed; to appear as a face on the wall of Meurseault's cell--

So. Tell me. What do you think? Which is better? To take action and perhaps make a fatal mistake - or to take no action and die slowly anyway?

And Egypt ? What is Egypt strenght?her resilience ?her ability to absorb poeple and events into the pores of her being? is that true or is it just a consolation ? a shifting of responsibility? and if it is true , how much can she absorb and still remain Egypt ?

Tell me, if you thought a man had a tendresse for you, but he wasn't doing anything about it. And you wanted to hurry him up a little so you made a move, an unmistakable move; one that nobody could pretend had been a misunderstanding. And he - he ignored it - ignored you. What would you feel?

I haven't come to you only to take , I haven't come to you empty handed : I bring you poetry as great as yours but in anther tongue , I bring you black eyes and golden skin and curly hair , I bring you Islam and Luxor and Alexandria and Lutes and tambourines and date-palms and silk rugs and sunshine and incense and voluptuous ways

Egypt.mother of civilization, dreaming herself through the centuries. Dreaming us all, her children: those who stay and work for her and complain of her, and those who leave and yearn for her and blame her with bitterness for driving them away.

It is that happy stretch of time when the lovers set to chronicling their passion. When no glance, no tone of voice is so fleeting but it shines with significance. When each moment, each perception is brought out with care, unfolded like a precious gem from its layers of the softest tissue paper and laid in front of the beloved — turned this way and that, examined, considered.

If people can write to each other across space, why can they not write across time too?

Sometimes,because we use the same words,we assume we mean the same thing

But things move on and by the time you've plotted your position the world around you has changed and you are running -panting- to catch up.

It was too cold to dream

Every day she waits for night-time. She goes to bed at half past eight because that is the earliest time she can imagine going to bed and because that means that the day is officially over and she doesn't have to do anything more about it. About anything.

But things move on and by the time you've plotted your position the world around you has changed and you are running -panting- to catch up.

If people can write to each other across space, why can they not write across time too?