I Do Myself Think That History Is

The Fate Of Peoples Is Made Like This, Two Men In Small Rooms. Forget The Coronations, The Conclaves Of Cardinals, The Pomp And Processions. This Is How The World Changes: A Counter Pushed Across A Table, A Pen Stroke That Alters The Force Of A Phrase, A Woman's Sigh As She Passes And Leaves On The Air A Trail Of Orange Flower Or Rose Water; Her Hand Pulling Close The Bed Curtain, The Discreet Sigh Of Flesh Against Flesh.

For Historians, Creative Writers Provide A Kind Of Pornography.

Those Who Are Made Can Be Unmade.

Every Leader Operates Under The Threat Of Assassination.

A Novel Should Be A Book Of Questions, Not A Book Of Answers.