This Is Our Island. It's

Towards Midnight The Rain Ceased And The Clouds Drifted Away, So That The Sky Was Scattered Once More With The Incredible Lamps Of Stars.

In India The Odd Thing Is That English Is This Almost Artificial Language Floating On The Surface Of A Place With About Fifty Other Languages. The Same Is True Of Nigeria But Even More So.

Which Is Better, Law And Rescue, Or Hunting And Breaking Things Up?

I'm Not A Critic So Much Of My Own Writing. People Must Make Up Their Own Minds Over That.

Put Simply The Novel Stands Between Us And The Hardening Concept Of Statistical Man. There Is No Other Medium In Which We Can Live For So Long And So Intimately With A Character. That Is The Service A Novel Renders.