Grief loves the hollow; all it wants is to hear its own echo.
Dreams have consequences. There is no turning back. A revolution is not a painless march to the gates of freedom and justice. It is a struggle between rage and hope, between the temptation to destroy and the desire to build. Its temperament is desperate. It is a tormented response to the past, to all that has happened, the recalled and unrecalled injustices - for the memory of a revolution reaches much further back than the memory of its protagonists.
Books written out of fire give me a great deal of pleasure. You get the sense that the world for these writers could not have continued if the book hadn't been written. When you come across a book like that it is a privilege.
Nothing is more acceptable than what we are born into.
There and then, sitting beside her and within the strength of my adoration, I felt invincible.
The three things that help writing the most are living, writing, and reading. In that order.
I wanted to wear her as you would a piece of clothing, to fold into her ribs, be a stone in her mouth.
It is sometimes hard to escape the belief that history exists against the artist.
I am of the firm opinion that no one should tell writers what to do, or what to write, or how to write.
Season of Migration to the North, by Tayeb Salih, is an eloquent and restrained portrait of one man's exile. It is a rare narrative in that it charts a life divided between England and Sudan. Without a doubt it is one of the finest Arabic novels of the 20th century, and Denys Johnson-Davies' translationdoes the original justice.
When I first began writing In the Country of Men all I had was the voice of the protagonist. He intrigued me and my desire to want to know him and his world became almost compulsive.
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