To Think New Thoughts You Have To

When I Can't See Myself In The Mirror, I Can't Even Feel Myself, And I Begin To Wonder If I Exist At All.

This Desire [to Write] Is Rather Strange All The Same And Is Not Without A Certain "cracked" Quality.

I Am Alone In This White, Garden-rimmed Street. Alone And Free. But This Freedom Is Rather Like Death.

You Are -- Your Life, And Nothing Else.

In A Country Lacking Leaders, In Africa, For Instance, How Could A Native Educated In Europe Refuse To Become A Professor, Even At The Price Of His Literary Vocation?