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Peace. The upland serenity of high altitude, the openness of grassland without indigenous bush or trees; the greening, yellowing or silver-browning that prevailed, according to season.

Nadine Gordimer

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Attitude Bush Grasland Gret Indigenous Openness Primacy Serenity Silver Tree Word Yellow

Bagwalas

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

Any writer of any worth at all hopes to play only a pocket-torch of light – and rarely, through genius, a sudden flambeau – into the bloody yet beautiful labyrinth of human experience, of being.
NADINE GORDIMER

All Any Ariely Bloody Genius Hope Light Olay Pocket Sudden Through Torch Worth Write Yet
Exile as a mode of genius no longer exists; in place of Joyce we have the fragments of work appearing in Index on Censorship.
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Appear Censorship Exile Exist Fragment Genius Index Joyce Longer Mode Place Work
Perhaps the best definition of progress would be the continuing efforts of men and women to narrow the gap between the convenience of the powers that be and the unwritten charter.
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Nothing fades so quickly as what is unchanged.
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The truth isn’t always beauty, but the hunger for it is.
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There’s no tiling moral about beauty.
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As writers, we are exploring the mystery, the mystery of existence.
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Censorship may have to do with literature; but literature has nothing whatever to do with censorship.
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It’s easier for the former masters to put aside the masks that hid their humanity than for the former slaves to recognise the faces underneath. Or to trust that this is not a new mask these are wearing.
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The solitude of writing is also quite frightening. It’s quite close to madness, one just disappears for a day and loses touch.
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The facts are always less than what really happened.
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Rebirth. I mean by this simply what happens when the child begins to realise the fact that the black does not enter through the white’s front door is not in the same category as the fact that the dead will never come back.
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Written words still have the amazing power to bring out the best and worst of human nature
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The gap between the committed and the indifferent is a Sahara whose faint trails, followed by the mind’s eye only, fade out in sand.
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