Naguib Mahfouz's Book Of Dreams

Dream Number 80.

We gathered in the old room, my mother, my four sisters and me. No sooner had we closed the door than complaints arose about times past and people we knew. My mother turned toward me apprehensively, swearing an oath that all she had ever done or said was out of love. At this, voices were raised, demanding; if that's true, then how do you explain what happened? Scoldingly, my mother replied, you have to account for yourselves as well. Don't try to tell me that it was all written and decreed.