Unoka went into an inner room and soon returned with a small wooden disc containing a kola nut, some alligator pepper and a lump of white chalk. "I have kola," he announced when he sat down, and passed the disc over to his guest. "Thank you. He who brings kola brings life. But I think you ought to break it," replied Okoye passing back the disc. "No, it is for you, I think," and they argued like this for a few moments before Unoka accepted the honor of breaking the kola. Okoye, meanwhile, took the lump of chalk, drew some lines on the floor, and then painted his big toe.

Democracy is not something you put away for ten years, and then in the 11th year you wake up and start practicing again. We have to begin to learn to rule ourselves again.

Art is man's constant effort to create for himself a different order of reality from that which is given to him.

Men have learned to shoot without missing their mark and I have learned to fly without perching on a twig.

When suffering knocks at your door and you say there is no seat for him, he tells you not to worry because he has brought his own stool.

I'm amazed when I think about students today. They know from day one what they are going to be. We didn't. We just coasted. We just knew that things would work out.

The writer cannot expect to be excused from the task of reeducation and regeneration that must be done. In fact, he should march right in front.