Everybody Is Interesting For An Hour, But

What Matters In The End In Literature, What Is Always There, Is The Truly Good. And- Though Played Out Forms Can Throw Up Miraculous Sports Like The Importance Of Being Earnest Or Decline And Fall- What Is Good Is Always What Is New, In Both Form And Content. What Is Good Forgets Whatever Models It Might Have Had, And Is Unexpected; We Have To Catch It On The Wing.

We Cannot Understand All The Traits We Have Inherited. Sometimes We Can Be Strangers To Ourselves.

In Trinidad, Where As New Arrivals We Were A Disadvantaged Community, That Excluding Idea Was A Kind Of Protection; It Enabled Us - For The Time Being, And Only For The Time Being - To Live In Our Own Way And According To Our Own Rules, To Live In Our Own Fading India.

In England I Am Not English, In India I Am Not Indian. I Am Chained To The 1,000 Square Miles That Is Trinidad; But I Will Evade That Fate Yet.

My Grief Is That The Publishing World, The Book Writing World Is An Extraordinary Shoddy, Dirty, Dingy World.