It was the noise Of ancient trees falling while all was still Before the storm, in the long interval Between the gathering clouds and that light breeze Which Germans call the Wind's bride.
“The story of my life is about back entrances, side doors, secret elevators and other ways of getting in and out of places so that people won't bother me.”
“I think for a lot of so-called post-colonial peoples, there's a feeling of not being quite legitimate, of not being pure enough.”