Cake, said Mma Ramotswe quickly. That is Mr J.L.B. Matekoni’s great weakness. He cannot help himself when it comes to cake. He can be manipulated very easily if he has a plate of cake in his hand.
But who doesn't have a lot of unread books? It's nice, though, to know they are there.
But then men do not see things the same way we do, she thought. They have different eyes.
But some of us cannot see love, she said to herself, even when it is there, right before us, asking us to invite it in.
But look at it now: a detective agency, right here in Gaborone, with me, the fat lady detective, sitting outside and thinking these thoughts about how what is one thing today becomes quite another thi...
But don't we often lie to people we love, or not tell them things, precisely because we love them?
As a general rule, making other people happy is one of the few things we can do with utter certainty that what we’re doing is the right thing.
Anthropology, she thought, like charity, surely begins at home.
And would you like to do that, Bertie? asked the psychotherapist. Bertie nodded. Dr. St. Clair scribbled a note on his pad. Fantasies of escape, he wrote. But why Iceland? 50. A Fiscally Responsible B...
And then there is the poet Kenneth Koch, who while travelling in Kenya came to a railroad crossing at which this sign was posted: One train may hide another. This was meant, of course, as a warning to...
Although she had only started being a detective, Precious was well aware that you had to be able to show people something if you wanted them to believe it.
A large bird, a buzzard perhaps, was circling on high on a current of air, a tiny, soaring point of black, looking for food, of course, as all of us did, in one way or another.
High heels were always a temptation, but, like all temptations, one paid for them later...
Because love can come, if you believe in it and behave as if it exists. That was the case, too, with free will; with perhaps, fath of any sort; and love was a sort of faith, was it not?
As she drove along this road with all its memories, she put out of her mind the things that had been worrying her. For out here, out in the acacia scrub that stretched away to those tiny island-like h...
What is one thing today becomes quite another thing tomorrow.
Suddenly realised that if he felt that he had achieved nothing it was because he had failed to cherish what he had in fact done. He had filled his days doing ordinary, unexceptional things and thought...
Love was a form of blindness that closed the eyes to the most glaring faults.
You’re not angry, Mma? She shook her head. What was the point of anger? There were occasions when Mma Ramotswe, like all of us, could feel angry, but they were few—and they never lasted long. Anger, O...
You cannot divide a child's heart in two she had observed to Mma Makutsi, and yet that is what some people wish to do. A child has only one heart.And the rest of us? Mma Makutsi had asked. Do we not h...