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Their feathery pages were flimsy, thin, and near the ends of their current lives. Their next lives were as dust.
Pages burning always breaks my heart! I hate thinking about a books death :(
The man had died like this because of his mouth, not because of the manuscripts for which Timbouctou had become famous.
“Heat rises, but it also scorches the earth when it is hungry,” she said. “That fire is hungry.”
spirits and djinn always linger when there is something to linger for.”
Education and the future were important, but family was the true elixir of life.
His mother had once told him that only half of them were actually blood relatives, but none of that really mattered; uncles were uncles.
They seem to want to destroy all things that are about knowledge, history, and free thought.”
They want to erase the history of our people. They want to erase our ancestors. Wipe them all away and replace them with the memory of the Arab. It is a false jihad against the genius of the black African. It is not Islam at all.”
“It’s black because it is so full of words, there is no space untouched.”
