In Kilanga, people knew nothing of things they might have had - a Frigidaire? a washer-dryer combination? Really, they'd sooner imagine a tree that could pull up its feet and go bake bread. It didn't occur to them to feel sorry for themselves.

Pay attention to your passions. They are the key to starting and finishing the book you are meant to write. I don't believe in talent. I believe in passion.

Now I'm starting to think he wasn't supposed to be my whole life, he was just this doorway to me.

It's surprising how much memory is built around things unnoticed at the time.

I grew up aware of all the people I depended on and who depended on me.

There's such a gulf between yourself and who you were then, but people speak to that other person and it answers; it's like having a stranger as a house guest in your skin.

What you lose in blindness is the space around you, the place where you are, and without that you might not exist. You could be nowhere at all.