Mumbling obeisance to abhorrence of apartheid is like those lapsed believers who cross themselves when entering a church.

If I dreamt this, while walking, walking in the London streets, the subconscious of each and every other life, past and present, brushing me in passing, what makes it real? Writing it down.

As writers, we are exploring the mystery, the mystery of existence.

A child understands fear, and the hurt and hate it brings.

In various and different circumstances certain objects and individuals are going to turn out to be vital. The wager of survival cannot, by its nature, reveal which, in advance of events.

About the joys and the courage, I really don't know what other people think. I just know that I've never left Africa. I've lived there all my life. And one of the wonderful things, in spite of all the terrible things that happen in South Africa, is the way people continue to keep their dignity.

Success sometimes may be defined as a disaster put on hold. Qualified. Has to be.