"You can always get into those places. What is hard is to get out. That is the private fight. Everybody has to find his own way." Chapter 1, page 1.

"All that had happened in the past was washed away; there was only the present. It was as though, as a result of some disturbance in the heavens, the early morning light was always receding into the darkness, and men lived in a perpetual dawn." Chapter 2, page 18.

"The rage of the rebels was like a rage against metal, machinery, wires, everything that was not of the forest and Africa." Chapter 5, page 86.

"And paint! It was everywhere in the center, slapped onto concrete and plaster and timber, dripping on the pavement. Someone had unloaded his stock - pink and lime and red and mauve and blue. The bush was at war; the town was in a state of insurrection, with nightly...