Ahmed Khaled

“أسير على غير هدى وبلا هدف ولكن صادفتنى مفاجأة لم تخطر لى فى خاطرى فصرت كلما وضعت قدمى فى شارع انقلب الشارع سيركا.
اختفت جدرانه وأبنيته وسياراته والمارة وحل محل ذلك قبة هائلة بمقاعدها المتدرجة وحبالها الممدودة والمدلاة واراجيحها وأقفاص حيوانتها والممثلون والمبتكرون والرياضيون حتى البلياتشو، وشد ما دهشت وسررت وكدت أطير من الفرح، ولكن بالانتقال من شارع إلى شارع وبتكرار المعجزة مضى السرور يفتر والضجر يزحف حتى ضقت بالمشى والرؤية وتاقت نفسى للرجوع إلى مسكنى، ولكم فرحت حين لاح لى وجه الدنيا وامنت بمجىء الفرح. وفتحت الباب فإذا بالبلياتشو يستقبلنى مقهقها.”
― نجيب محفوظ, أحلام فترة النقاهة

“There is but one truly philosophical problem, and that is suicide,” the text began. I winced. “Whether or not the world has three dimensions or the mind nine or twelve categories,” it continued, “comes afterward”; such questions, the text explained, were part of the game humanity played, but they deserved attention only after the one true issue had been settled. The book was The Myth of Sisyphus and was written by the Algerian-born philosopher and Nobel laureate Albert Camus. After a moment, the iciness of his words melted under the light of comprehension. Yes, of course, I thought. You can ponder this or analyze that till the cows come home, but the real question is whether all your ponderings and analyses will convince you that life is worth living. That’s what it all comes down to. Everything else is detail.”
― Brian Greene, The Fabric of the Cosmos: Space, Time, and the Texture of Reality

“I was not yet in love, yet I loved to love...I sought what I might love, in love with loving.”
― Augustine of Hippo

“I am a lover and have not found my thing to love.”
― Sherwood Anderson