A map says to you. Read me carefully, follow me closely, doubt me not... I am the earth in the palm of your hand.

But the soul of Africa, its integrity, the slow inexorable pulse of its life, is its own and of such singular rhythm that no outsider, unless steeped from childhood in its endless, even beat, can ever hope to experience it, except only as a bystander might experience a Masai war dance knowing nothing of its music nor the meaning of its steps.

A lovely horse is always an experience.... It is an emotional experience of the kind that is spoiled by words.

There are as many Africas as there are books about Africa.

[The lion] began to contemplate me with a kind of quiet premeditation, like that of a slow-witted man fondling an unaccustomed thought.

Talk lives in a man’s head, but sometimes it is very lonely because in the heads of many men there is nothing to keep it company - and so talk goes out through the lips.

After that, work and hope. But never hope more than you work