Writing is making sense of life. You work your whole life and perhaps you've made sense of one small area.
Truth isn't always beauty, but the hunger for it is.
The facts are always less than what really happened.
The creative act is not pure. History evidences it. Sociology extracts it. The writer loses Eden, writes to be read and comes to realize that he is answerable.
Responsibility is what awaits outside the Eden of Creativity.
Power is something of which I am convinced there is no innocence this side of the womb.
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.
Mumbling obeisance to abhorrence of apartheid is like those lapsed believers who cross themselves when entering a church.
If people would forget about utopia! When rationalism destroyed heaven and decided to set it up here on earth, that most terrible of all goals entered human ambition. It was clear there'd be no end to what people would be made to suffer for it.
Censorship is never over for those who have experienced it. It is a brand on the imagination that affects the individual who has suffered it, forever.