Life Is Savagely Unfair. It Ignores Our

To Be Well In Your Mind You Have First To Be Free.

Even For A Girl Like Me, Then, There Comes A Day When She Can Stop Surviving And Start Living. To Survive, You Have To Look Good Or Talk Good. But To End Your Story Well-- Here Is The Truth-- You Have To Talk Yourself Out Of It.

Still Shaking, In The Pew, I Understood That It Isn't The Dead We Cry For. We Cry For Ourselves, And I Didn't Deserve My Own Pity.

You May Think That's Funny Osama But You Never Can Squeeze Every Last Bit Of Pride Out Of A Human Being. It's Like A Tube Of Toothpaste. You Can Twist It And You Can Crush It But There's Always A Tiny Bit Left Isn't There?

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'.