My mother died happily of a stroke in her seventies.

None of you [men] ask for anything - except everything, but just for so long as you need it.

The white man has settled like a locust over Africa, and, like the locusts in early morning, cannot take flight for the heaviness of the dew on their wings. But the dew that weights the white man is the money that he makes from our labor.

When young I did my best to undo that bit of the British Empire I found myself in: that is, old Southern Rhodesia.

Space or science fiction has become a dialect for our time.

I find myself increasingly shocked at the unthinking and automatic rubbishing of men which is now so part of our culture that it is hardly even noticed.

It can be considered a rule that the probable duration of an Empire may be prognosticated by the degree to which its rulers believe in their own propaganda.