I Always Knew Who I Was And

Nothing Was Made In Trinidad.

To This Day, If You Ask Me How I Became A Writer, I Cannot Give You An Answer. To This Day, If You Ask Me How A Book Is Written, I Cannot Answer. For Long Periods, If I Didn't Know That Somehow In The Past I Had Written A Book, I Would Have Given Up.

The Only Lies For Which We Are Truly Punished Are Those We Tell Ourselves.

If Writers Just Sit And Talk About Oppression, They Are Not Going To Do Much Writing.

The Melancholy Thing About The World Is That It Is Full Of Stupid People; And The World Is Run For The Benefit Of The Stupid And Common.