Nothing factual that I write or say will be as truthful as my fiction.

People give one another things that can't be gift wrapped.

Humans, the only self-regarding animals, blessed or cursed with this torturing higher faculty, have always wanted to know why.

I couldn't be sufficiently interested in human beings to be a writer if I had contempt for human beings.

Books dont need batteries

Where do whites fit in the New Africa? Nowhere, I'm inclined to sayand I do believe that it is true that even the gentlest and most westernised Africans would like the emotional idea of the continent entirely without the complication of the presence of the white man for a generation or two. But nowhere, as an answer for us whites, is in the same category as remarks like What's the use of living? in the face of the threat of atomic radiation. We are living; we are in Africa.

I'm a candle flame that sways in currents of air you can't see. You need to be the one who steadies me to burn.