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A Conversation with the Head of Orpheus
Russell Hoban
‘Far, far away in the night are live human beings whose breathing can be heard as they speak, and they're looking at their illuminated dials as I look at mine at this end of the darkness that curves with the night miles to the heave and swell of the ocean dawn.’
Resistance
Günter Grass
‘Isn’t it already apparent how the peace movement is slowing down, flagging, impotent?’
Testimonial
Martha Gellhorn
‘Governments think big; they think geopolitically. Human rights are irrelevant to geopolitics. This may kill us all in the end.’
One Less Octopus at Paxos
Russell Hoban
‘She fired the speargun, then held up the spear with an octopus writhing on it. It was a mottled pinky-brown and its head was about as big as two clasped hands.’
Road to Cambodia
James Fenton
‘The buildings were full of surprises. In one, surrounded by winking lights, the last abbot was lying in his coffin. He had died a year before, and it would be another two years before he was cremated.’
White into Black
Martha Gellhorn
‘It is hard to believe that, in 1952, there were only two places on earth where blacks could not be insulted or mistreated simply because of their colour: Haiti and Liberia.’
In Stevenson’s Footsteps
Richard Holmes
‘But Stevenson was still three or four hours ahead of me. He crossed the stone bridge into Langogne in the early afternoon of Monday 23 September 1878, ‘just as the promised rain was beginning to fall.’’
The Bird of Paradise Lost
Guillermo Cabrera Infante
‘Hudson had been a professional collector of birds in the pampas as a young man, employed first by the Smithsonian in the United States.’
The Boat Train
Russell Hoban
‘The train wheels, now authorized to take up their song of distance, clacked and clattered their traditional shanty of miles.’
September 11, 1973
Joan Jara
‘Victor was due that morning to sing at the Technical University, at the opening of a special exhibition about the horrors of civil war and fascism where Allende was going to speak.’
Pan Lives
Russell Hoban
‘The child by the window is not thinking of the brevity of life, the child has as yet no idea of it.’
