A Sunday at the Pool in Kigali

"He who lives on a hill distrusts strangers. He lives in isolation and knows neither friend nor enemy. So he gives himself time to understand and, in the meantime, he pretends. Often he takes a whole lifetime and only says what he thinks on his deathbed. .... They [whites] do not understand the first thing about the permanent insecurity of the men of the hills. The Whites have guns. The Blacks have secret thoughts. page 21

"This is how the Whites at the hotel, instant minor gods, hear and figure Africa. Close enough to talk about it, even to write about it. But at the same time so isolated with their portable computers in their antiseptic rooms, and in their air-conditioned Toyotas, so surrounded by little Blacks trying to be like Whites that they think Black is the smell of the perfumes and cheap ointments sold in teh Nairobi duty-free shop." page 44

"You see dead bodies, skeletons, and on top of that you want us to talk like we're dying. I'll start booing that a few seconds before I die, until then I'm going to life and fuck and have a good time. You're the one who talks like a dying man, like every would you say is going to be your last. You mustn't take it wrong, but that what I think and I'm saying it. Monsier Valcourt, have another Primus, have a good time with us, then go back to the hotel, eat, fuck the beautiful Gentille, and go to sleep snoring like a cat. And leave us to die peacefully alive." page 82

"I found out too that I didn't want to die. Before dying meant going to paradise. Now, it means the end of life. And life, Valcourt, it's life that's paradise." page 156

"The hush spoken by the silence was the language of the hills. And depending on whether he was thinking of the men clinging to the flanks of the hills or the peacefulness flooding through him, Valcourt could choose to listen to the murmuring of humanity or the wondrous hush of silence" page 196

"People, he told her, are shaped somehow by their climate and the land they live in. Those who live by the sea are like the currents and tides; they go and come, and discover many shores. Their words and loves are like water that slips between one's fingers and is never still. Mountain people have fought the mountain to win their place. Once they have conquered it they protect their mountain, and others coming from far below in the valley risk being seen as enemies. Hill people take time before greeting each other. They study one another and only slowly accept one another, but once their guard is lowered or their word is given, they will be as firm as their hill in their commitment." page 203