Why is it you can never hope to describe the emotion Africa creates? You are lifted. Out of whatever pit, unbound from whatever tie, released from whatever fear. You are lifted and you see it all from above.

Children know so little, they must learn quickly to imitate grown-ups whenever they feel unsure in a situation.

I can't say why some memories float and other sink.

I'd rather stay asleep than have to learn all those frightening secrets.

When you leave Africa, as the plane lifts, you feel that more than leaving a continent you're leaving a state of mind. Whatever awaits you at the other end of your journey will be of a different order of existence.

Suddenly it all seemed luminously clear. Love had very little to do with fear and emotional sabotage; love had to do with trust.

What kind of heart does one have to have in order to be able to get rid of these, without regret, as if they were empty beer cans?