You're giving them false hope. ...What is false about hope?

I am responsible only to God and history.

Now, as he finished the last of his porridge, Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni reminded himself that the one thing he felt certain about when it came to women was that you could never be sure.

The blood of life is leaving his body and despair is taking its place, despair that is like a gas, odourless, tasteless, without nourishment. You breathe it in, your limbs relax, you cease to care, even at the moment when the steel touches your throat.

Written By J.M. Coetzee

About us

Featured posts

Featured Topics

Quick Links