Jani Allan
Former South African columnist and radio personality who has also been the subject of intense media coverage.
A pervasive moral turpitude underlies South African society.
Dressing with style is akin to issuing a manifesto; dressing fashionably is like signing a petition.
You'd have to be dead not to be impressed by his sincerity. But then didn't Oscar Wilde say say "The worst vice of the fanatic is his sincerity".
The original of the yellow rose is clad (you've guessed it) in canary yellow. The lemon-meringue confection has been poured into yellow slacks and yellow shirt, an immaculate yellow-blonde barbie-doll with 'EFG- Follies-Girl' written all over her.
It is her total professionalism and perennial striving for perfection that elevated Moira from the merely blonde to the maxi-talented.
I'm impaled on the blue flames of his blowtorch eyes, you see.
The voice (sometimes an ominous rumble that sounds as though he's been gargling with pebbles, sometimes the bliss of Bailey's Irish Cream swirling lazily about a fine crystal goblet) crescendos almost imperceptibly.
I disapproved of the number of men she had traipsing into her bedroom and suggested she should have a turnstile on her bedroom door.
That night I made copies of all the documents with shaking hands and gave them to a friend with contacts in the British secret services. I had a bitter taste in my mouth.
As remote as the rings of Saturn... A man with his stubby million-rand finger perennially prodding the public's pulse, his eyes constantly roving the horizons of the future, Kerzner has the power of a Prometheus unbound.
But despite the fact that everyone thinks that I'm an IFP member, I do not have any political affiliations. I support Buthelezi the man because he makes me believe that heroes still exist.
She is not destructive - but she does have a particular facility for puncturing pomposity.
The only girl who ever knocked me out.
Your piece on me acted like a bicycle pump and I mooned around for ages, smiling foolishly and cannoning off the wallls.
the little roly-poly Russian-born rebel of the canvas.
And I think that my whole life, looking back at it, I was so rooted in worldly things, in worldly values, fame, fashion and fortune and all the things that are just transient.
The happy-go-lucky barefoot kid who loved rugby, ice-cream-and-hot-chocolate sauce, staying at home for a braai and the flieks grew up into an international rubgy player, idol of millions and South African cult figure...
Whatever award is given for libel, being cross-examined by you would not make it enough money.
The facts of the matter are (that) I did not do any of the things of which I was accused by paid witnesses. But having said that, I'm not sitting here today pleading for the world to believe me because I've come to God. He knows what's in my heart; he knows the truth of the matter. And the witnesses who lied do as well.
His voice, like a malted milkshake marinated for more than seventy years, has a slightly monotonous lilt - rather like a Hindu chanting Bagavad Gita.