One can present people with opportunities. One cannot make them equal to them.

One can present people with opportunities. One cannot make them equal to them.

Looking back into childhood is like looking into a semi-transparent globe within which people and places lie embedded. A shake - and they stir, rise up, circle in inter-weaving groups, then settle down again.

How long, I wonder, will ignorance spell purity and knowledge shame?

People have been saying the novel is dead for as far back as I can remember. The novel will never die, but it will keep changing and evolving and taking different shapes. Storytelling, which is the basis of the novel, has always existed and always will.

In a corner of the churchyard grew a plantation of white violets, enormously plump and prosperous-looking. ... I saw the dead stretched out under me in the earth, feeding these flowers with a thin milk drawn from their bones.

The novel will never die, but it will keep changing and evolving and taking different shapes.