Who among human beings can affirm within the depths of his soul not to sometimes know violence, aggression, hatred, the excitation of a destructive instinct, or anger? Self control, serenity, respect of the Other, and tenderness are not natural but are acquired and exact a price of permanent personal effort. Such is the toil of men: they approach the shores of humanity through long and hard, thoughtful and measured work on one’s self. Each individual knows this, each heart feels it.
All literature, since the dawn of time, reflects this tension which at times quiets down, at times agitates, sometimes tears the intimacy of men. From the Bhagavad Gita to the Torah to the Gospels, from Dostoyevsky to Baudelaire, the human horizon remains the same. The Qu’ran confirms this everyday experience: