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.

Books written out of fire give me a great deal of pleasure. You get the sense that the world for these writers could not have continued if the book hadn't been written. When you come across a book like that it is a privilege.

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

Dreams have consequences. There is no turning back. A revolution is not a painless march to the gates of freedom and justice. It is a struggle between rage and hope, between the temptation to destroy and the desire to build. Its temperament is desperate. It is a tormented response to the past, to all that has happened, the recalled and unrecalled injustices - for the memory of a revolution reaches much further back than the memory of its protagonists.

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

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

I am of the firm opinion that no one should tell writers what to do, or what to write, or how to write.