I don't know why they still building houses," Mr Biswas said. "Nobody don't want a house these days. They just want a coal barrel. One coal barrel for one person. Whenever a baby born just get another coal barrel. You wouldn't see any houses anywhere then. Just a yard with five or six coal barrels standing up in two or three rows.

V. S. Naipaul

V. S. Naipaul

Profession: Author
Nationality: British

Some suggestions for you :

If ever you wish to meet intellectual frauds in quantity, go to Paris.

In Trinidad, where as new arrivals we were a disadvantaged community, that excluding idea was a kind of protection; it enabled us - for the time being, and only for the time being - to live in our own way and according to our own rules, to live in our own fading India.

Though it was a comfort on occasion to play with the idea that outside this place a whole life waited for me, all the relationships that bind a man to the earth and give him a feeling of having a place.

The writer is all alone.

Reality is always separate from the ideal; but in Trinidad this fantasy is a form of masochism and is infinitely more cheating than the fantasy which makes the poor delight in films about rich or makes the English singer use and American accent.

And it was extraordinary to me that some of the newspapers could have found good words for the butchery on the coast. But people are like that bout places in which they aren't really interested and where thy don't have to live.

In what was happening now there was still that element of popular frenzy; but it was also clear that it was more organized, or that at least it had some deeper principle.

Most people are not really free. They are confined by the niche in the world that they carve out for themselves. They limit themselves to fewer possibilities by the narrowness of their vision.

I knew there was something that separated me from Ferdinand and the life of the bush about me. And it was because I had no means in my day-to-day life of asserting this difference, of exhibiting my true self, that I fell into the stupidity of exhibiting my things.

I've never abandoned the novel.

Africans need to be kicked, that's the only thing they understand.

They were a hospitable couple and they made a point (I feel for religious reasons) of offering hospitality to frightened or stranded foreigners.

Home is, I suppose just a child's idea. A house at night, and a lamp in the house. A place to feel safe.

If writers just sit and talk about oppression, they are not going to do much writing.