However Long The Moon Disappears, Someday It

I Think, In Common With A Lot Of Novelists, I Wasn't The Most Athletic Guy At School.

Wouldn't That Be Funny, If The Oil Rebels Were Playing U2 In Their Jungle Camps, And The Government Soldiers Were Playing U2 In Their Trucks. I Think Everyone Was Killing Everyone Else And Listening To The Same Music... That Is A Good Trick About This World, Sarah. No One Likes Each Other, But Everyone Likes U2.

Things That We Have To Really Dare Ourselves To Do Come Quite Naturally To Others.

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'.

The Reason Why I Love People, And Writing About Them, Is Because They Don't Always Respond With Hate And Anger. If They Did I Wouldn't Have A Story To Tell. Who Wants To Know About Someone Who Was Brutalised And Became Brutal? I'm Interested In The Exceptions.