“When Khubchand, his beloved, blind, bald, incontinent seventeen-year-old mongrel, decided to stage a miserable, long-drawn-out death, Estha nursed him through his final ordeal as though his own life somehow depended on it. In the last months of his life, Khubchand,… — Arundhati Roy Copy Share
...As the disparity between the rich and the poor grows, the fight to corner resources is intensifying. To push through their "sweetheart deals," to corporatize the crops we grow, the water we drink, the air we breathe, and the dreams we dream, corporate globalization needs an international confederation of loyal, corrupt, authoritarian governments in poorer countries to push through unpopular… — Arundhati Roy Copy Share
In 2001, we were told that the war in Afghanistan was a feminist mission. The marines were liberating Afghan women from the Taliban. Can you really bomb feminism into a country? And now, after 25 years of brutal war - 10 years against the Soviet occupation, 15 years of US occupation - the Taliban is riding back to Kabul and… — Arundhati Roy Copy Share
Flat muscled and honey coloured. Sea secrets in his eyes. A silver raindrop in his ear. — Arundhati Roy Copy Share Image
Fiction and non-fiction are only different techniques of story telling. For reasons I do not fully understand, fiction dances out of me. Non-fiction is… — Arundhati Roy Copy Share Image
NGOs have a complicated space in neoliberal politics. They are supposed to mop up the anger. Even when they are doing good work, they… — Arundhati Roy Copy Share Image
I've never been that person who thought that because I've written one novel, I should write another and another. It's only when there was… — Arundhati Roy Copy Share Image
It is such a supreme folly to believe that nuclear weapons are deadly only if they're used. — Arundhati Roy Copy Share Image
I think one of the saddest things that's happening to literature is that it's getting over-simplified by this diet of simple political ideas. — Arundhati Roy Copy Share Image
The only dream worth having, I told her, is to dream that you will live while you're alive and die only when you're dead. — Arundhati Roy Copy Share Image
But what was there to say? Only that there were tears. Only that Quietness and Emptiness fitted together like stacked spoons. Only that there was a snuffling in the hollows at the base of a lovely throat. Only that a hard honey-colored shoulder had a semicircle of teethmarks on it. Only that they held each other close, long after it… — Arundhati Roy Copy Share
Truly, there's no alternative to stupidity. Cretinism is the mother of fascism. I have no defence against it, really… — Arundhati Roy Copy Share Image
