At The Moment Of Vision, The Eyes

When You Take A Child Who's Hollering Like Hell, Sit Him On Your Knee, And Say "once Upon A Time", You Stop Him Hollering. As Long As You Go On Telling Him A Story, He Will Listen. Novelists Who Neglect This Fundamental Effect Do So At Their Peril. They Become What Is Known As The Experimental Novelist, And An Experimental Novel Is Not Really A Novel At All.

How Would I Myself Live In This Proposed Society? How Long Would It Be Before I Went Stark Staring Mad?

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.

Of The Authors Writing In English, I'd Mention Shakespeare And Milton. But All This Is Terribly High-hat And Makes Me Sound Very Po-faced, I'm Afraid; However, I Just Happen To Like These Enormous, Swinging, Great Creatures.

His Mind Was Crowded With Memories; Memories Of The Knowledge That Had Come To Them When They Closed In On The Struggling Pig, Knowledge That They Had Outwitted A Living Thing, Imposed Their Will Upon It, Taken Away Its Life Like A Long Satisfying Drink.