Music has no limits of a life-span.

It's absolutely fatal to your writing to think about how your work will be received. It's a betrayal of whatever talent you have.

It's easier for the former masters to put aside the masks that hid their humanity than for the former slaves to recognise the faces underneath. Or to trust that this is not a new mask these are wearing.

Written words still have the amazing power to bring out the best and worst of human nature

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

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

A desert is a place without expectation.