I wanted to wear her as you would a piece of clothing, to fold into her ribs, be a stone in her mouth.

Grief loves the hollow; all it wants is to hear its own echo.

Season of Migration to the North, by Tayeb Salih, is an eloquent and restrained portrait of one man's exile. It is a rare narrative in that it charts a life divided between England and Sudan. Without a doubt it is one of the finest Arabic novels of the 20th century, and Denys Johnson-Davies' translationdoes the original justice.

When I first began writing In the Country of Men all I had was the voice of the protagonist. He intrigued me and my desire to want to know him and his world became almost compulsive.

Nothing is more acceptable than what we are born into.

The three things that help writing the most are living, writing, and reading. In that order.

There and then, sitting beside her and within the strength of my adoration, I felt invincible.