I will say I am the sum of my books.

The melancholy thing about the world is that it is full of stupid people; and the world is run for the benefit of the stupid and common.

The ancillary aspect of every British city now is the council estate.

The world is what it is; men who are nothing, who allow themselves to become nothing, have no place in it.

Africa has no future.

My publisher, who was so good as a taster and editor, when she became a writer, lo and behold, it was all this feminine tosh.

It was a good place for getting lost in, a city no one ever knew, a city explored from the neutral heart outward, until after many years, it defined itself into a jumble of clearings separated by stretches of the unknown, through which the narrowest of paths had been cut.