...The people love him. So how can we condemn him?

What made Nelson Mandela great was precisely what made him human. We saw in him what we seek in ourselves.

Even if you apply any kind of lotion and straighten your hair you will never be white.

You have fewer rights because you are a minority. Absolutely, that’s how democracy works.

Me? Well, I don't know, I must go to a dictionary and learn what a crook is. I've never been a crook.

People tend to try to find something to talk about Zuma. My surname is very nice and simple. Very simple, so they like pronouncing it all the time. So what's the problem?

The ancestors will turn their backs against you and you will have bad luck forever if you leave the ANC unhappy

Those who vote for the ANC will be blessed on earth and heaven

Jan van Riebeeck's arrival in Cape Town was the beginning of all South Africa's problems.

Something has gone wrong with Ronnie... He wasn't like that before. I don't know what went wrong with him.

A shower would minimise the risk of contracting the disease.

Death is a bored clerk, with too many orders to fill. There is no reckoning. No profound moment. It creeps up on us from behind, and snatches us away while we shit.

My particular grief Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature That it engluts and swallows other sorrows, And it is still itself.

Your grandpa is a man that you can love until the end of your life. I love my grandpa and respect him. I cherish my grandpa while I have him.

Accident counts for much in companionship as in marriage.

I dreamt of being an actor ever since I was young.

I didn't send back any of the royalty checks.

I'm all done with hating you. It's all washed out of me. I hate people hard, but I don't hate them very long.

When the media gets into creating their own product and then deciding to cover it, they are becoming part of the process and, therefore, could be damaged.

There's certainly a portion of my brain that is always tuned to making wry observations about the world, but that portion of my brain was alive and well before Twitter.

As long as autumn lasts, I shall not have hands, canvas and colors enough to paint the beautiful things I see.