In the long run, most of us spend about fifteen minutes total in the entanglements of passion, and the rest of our days looking back on it, humming the tune.

Our childhood had passed over into history overnight. The transition was unnoticed by anyone but ourselves.

If you never stepped on anybody's toes, you never been for a walk.

We came from Bethlehem, Georgia bearing Betty Crocker cake mixes into the jungle.

Poor Congo, barefoot bride of men who took her jewels and promised the Kingdom.

A human being can be good or bad or right or wrong, maybe. But how can you say a person is illegal? You just can't. That's all there is to it.

Let me claim that Africa and I kept company for a while and then parted ways as if we were both party to relations with a failed outcome. Or say I was afflicted with Africa like a bout of a rare disease from which I have not managed a full recovery.