Columbia University, Where I Went To Study

Nothing Can Stop A Living Thing That Wants To Be Free

...the Future Of The World Lies With The Yellow Man And The Brown Man Now That Our Erstwhile Master, The White-skinned Man, Has Wasted Himself Through Buggery, Cell Phone Usage, And Drug Abuse

A Rich Man's Body Is Like A Premium Cotton Pillow, White And Soft And Blank. ''ours'' Is Different. My Father's Spine Was A Knotted Rope, The Kind That Women Use In Villages To Pull Water From Wells; The Clavicle Curved Around His Neck In High Relief, Like A Dog's Collar; Cuts And Nicks And Scars, Like Little Whip Marks In His Flesh, Ran Down His Chest And Waist, Reaching Down Below His Hip Bones Into His Buttocks. The Story Of A Poor Man's Life Is Written On His Body, In A Sharp Pen.

The Story Of A Poor Man's Life Is Written On His Body, In A Sharp Pen.

When I Was Writing 'the White Tiger' I Lived In A Building Pretty Much Exactly Like The One I Described In This Novel, And The People In The Book Are The People I Lived With Back Then. So I Didn't Have To Do Much Research To Find Them.