If Your Face Is Swollen From The

I Know That The Hopes Of This Whole Human World Can Fit Inside One Soul.

I Think My Ideal Man Would Speak Many Languages. He Would Speak Ibo And Yoruba And English And French And All Of The Others. He Could Speak With Any Person, Even The Soldiers, And If There Was Violence In Their Heart He Could Change It. He Would Not Have To Fight, Do You See? Maybe He Would Not Be Very Handsome, But He Would Be Beautiful When He Spoke. He Would Be Very Kind, Even If You Burned His Food Because You Were Laughing And Talking With Your Girlfriends Instead Of Watching The Cooking. He Would Just Say, 'ah, Never Mind'.

At This Point In Time The War [ Wwii] Is Close Enough To Still Feel Hotly Personal To A Writer, Yet Far Enough Away So That Jingoism And Heroics Are No Longer Required.

Sad Words Are Just Another Beauty. A Sad Story Means, This Storyteller Is Alive

I Do Think It Is Harder To Acknowledge Our Strengths, Or To Forgive Ourselves And Each Other For Our Shortcomings, When There Has Not Been A Result We Can All Agree On. And It Is Certainly Impossible To Imagine Forgiving The Enemy While Their Animus Remains Undefeated. Yet War Doesn't End With Armistice, It Only Ends With Forgiveness And Reconciliation.