I had a farm in Africa, at the foot of the Ngong Hills.

It is when people are told their own thoughts that they think they are being insulted.

It is little silly to be a caricature of something of which you know very little, and which means very little to you, but to be your own caricature — that is the true carnival!

In the Ngong Forest I have also seen, on a narrow path through thick growth, in the middle of a very hot day, the Giant Forest Hog, a rare person to meet.

Within our whole universe the story only has the authority to answer that cry of heart of its characters, that one cry of heart of each of them: "Who am I?"

But by the time that I had nothing left, I myself was the lightest thing of all for fate to get rid of.

I have before seen other countries, in the same manner, give themselves to you when you are about to leave them.