" The great prayer wound its way into my sleepy consciousness like a serpent, coil after shining coil of words—the voice of the muezzin sinking from register to register of gravity—until the whole morning seemed dense with its marvelous healing powers, the intimations of a grace undeserved and unexpected, impregnating that shabby room where Melissa lay, breathing lightly as a gull, rocked upon the oceanic splendours of a language she would never know. "

― Lawrence Durrell , Justine (The Alexandria Quartet #1)