In the end, stories move like whirling dervishes, drawing circles beyond circles. They connect all humanity, regardless of identity politics. And that is the good news. And I would like to finish with an old Sufi poem. “Come, let us be friends for once; let us make life easy on us; let us be lovers and loved ones; the earth shall be left to no one.”
From Elif Shafak’s The Poltics of Fiction.