Justine — Lawrence Durrell

Alexandria - a thousand dust-tormented streets. Flies and beggars own it today, and those who enjoy an intermediate existence in between.

Five races, five languages, a dozen creeds - but there are more than five sexes. The sexual provender which lies to hand is staggering in its variety and profusion. The Orient cannot rejoice in the sweet anarchy of the body - for it has far outstripped the body.

Someone once said that Alexandria was the great wine press of love; those who emerged from it were the sick men, the solitaries, the prophets - I mean all who have been deeply wounded in their sex.