If faces were different when lit from above or below -- what was a face? What was anything?

How can you expect to be rescued if you don’t put first things first and act proper?

There were no words, and no movements but the tearing of teeth and claws.

I've come across a novel called The Palm-Wine Drinkard, by the Nigerian writer Amos Tutuola, that is really remarkable because it is a kind of fantasy of West African mythology all told in West African English which, of course, is not the same as standard English.

I think they've got 250 languages in Nigeria, and so English is a sort of lingua franca between the 250 languages.

How would I myself live in this proposed society? How long would it be before I went stark staring mad?

We're not savages. We're English.