Measure a man by his actions fully, through his whole life, from the beginning to the end.

The Webbs are really gone! When I saw the waggons at the door, and thought of all the trouble they must have in moving, I began to reproach myself for not having liked them better, but since the waggons have disappeared my conscience has been closed again, and I am excessively glad they are gone.

Well, when I began teaching at the University of Benin, I was only 24 years old and fresh from University of Ibadan graduate school. I was very hopeful and ready to make my own contribution to society. In 1991, teaching was certainly not an attractive profession for a young girl.

Begging your pardon, Miss.

Synthetic method is that which begins with the parts, and leads onward to the knowledge of the whole : it begins with the most simple principles and general truths, and proceeds by degrees to that which is drawn from them, or compounded of them ; and therefore it is called the method of composition.

Every truth has relation to some other. And we should try to write the facts of our knowledge so as to see them in their several bearings. This we do when we frame them into a system. To do so legitimately, we must begin by analysis and end with synthesis.

I began to learn who I was, what exactly I wanted to do, and started running toward this goal from that moment.

Praise shames me, for I secretly beg for it.

I began plotting novels at about the time I learned to read. The story of my childhood is the usual bleak fantasy, and we can dismiss it with the restrained observation that I certainly would not consider living it again.

Running was in my blood from the beginning. If God has given you a talent, you have to show it. People told me, 'You won't have children if you run long distances.' It was lies. I wanted to be like the men. If no one gives you encouragement, you have to encourage yourself.

My arguments were beginning to sound a little strained to me, too. I was in the position of a priest trying to sell religion.

Music has a natural place in our lives. Right from the shloka you recite in your morning puja and the milkman who comes whistling on his cycle, to the fakir singing as he begs for alms and your mother humming around the kitchen...Music fills our spaces naturally. It will always be dear to us.

A pretty little story is related by Stobæus: "A youth who had begun to read geometry with Euclid, when he had learnt the first proposition, inquired, 'What do I get by learning these things?' So Euclid called his slave and said, 'Give him threepence, since he must make gain out of what he learns.

I felt so aimless — like a tennis ball, bouncing, bouncing — I began to wonder where I'd land.

Without hope of reward
Provide help to others.
Bear suffering alone,
And share your pleasures with beggars.

I remember that when we began our friendship, our minds were full of noble thoughts and we often thought of living a quiet life in the mountains.