No papers, no money; no family, no friends, no sense of who you are. The obscurest of the obscure, so obscure as to be a prodigy.

Sleep is no longer a healing bath, a recuperation of vital forces, but an oblivion, a nightly brush with annihilation.

His own opinion, which he does not air, is that the origin of speech lie in song, and the origins of song in the need to fill out with sound the overlarge and rather empty human soul.

The mode of consciousness of nonhuman species is quite different from human consciousness.

Das Bild vom Wirtschaftsgeschehen als einem Wettlauf oder Wettkampf ist in seinen Details etwas verschwommen, doch es scheint, als hätte es als Wettlauf kein Ziel und deshalb kein natürliches Ende. Das einzige Ziel des Wettläufers ist es, die Führung zu übernehmen und zu behalten. Die Frage, warum das Leben wie ein Wettlauf sein muss oder warum die Volkswirtschaften einen Wettlauf gegeneinander veranstalten müssen, statt kameradschaftlich der Gesundheit zuliebe miteinander zu joggen, wird nicht gestellt. Ein Wettlauf, ein Wettkampf - so ist es eben. Wir gehören von Natur aus zu verschiedenen Nationen; von Natur aus stehen Nationen in Konkurrenz zu anderen Nationen. Wir sind, wie uns die Natur geschaffen hat. Die Welt ist ein Dschungel [...], und im Dschungel konkurrieren alle Arten mit allen anderen Arten um Raum und Nahrung.

In a sudden and soundless eruption, as if he has fallen into a waking dream, a stream of images pours down, images of women he has known on two continents, some from so far away in time that he barely recognizes them. Like leaves blown on the wind, pell-mell, they pass before him. A fair field full of folk: hundreds of lives all tangled with his. He holds his breath, willing the vision to continue.

What has happened to them, all those women, all those lives? Are there moments when they too, or some of them, are plunged without warning into the ocean of memory? The German girl: is it possible that at this very instant she is remembering the man who picked her up on the roadside in Africa and spent the night with her?

Enriched: that was the word the newspapers picked on to jeer at. A stupid word to let slip, under the circumstances, yet now, at this moment, he would stand by it. By Melanie, by the girl in Touws River; by Rosalind, Bev Shaw, Soraya: by each of them he was enriched, and by the others too, even the least of them, even the failures. Like a flower blooming in his breast, his heart floods with thankfulness.