Visual surprise is natural in the Caribbean; it comes with the landscape, and faced with its beauty, the sigh of History dissolves.
Time is the metre, memory the only plot.
The English language is nobody's special property. It is the property of the imagination: it is the property of the language itself.
A culture, we all know, is made by its cities.
We read, we travel, we become.
The personal vocabulary, the individual melody whose metre is one's biography, joins in that sound, with any luck, and the body moves like a walking, a waking island.