Before You Speak, My Friend,

I Think A Book That Is Over 400 Pages Should Be Split In Two. I Don't Know That There's Anything That Interesting That Can Go On For 700 Pages. I Think That Is A Little Bit Indulgent.

Your Anatomy Is A Mystery That Nobody Bothers Explaining To Us. Even When We Think We Have Mastered One Woman's Body, Every Body Is Different.

The Privilege Of Being A Writer Is That You Have This Opportunity To Slow Down And To Consider Things.

I Have Not Spoken In Three Years: Not Since I Left Boot Camp. It Has Been Three Years Of A Senseless War, And Though The Reasons For It Are Clear, And Though We Will Continue To Fight Until We Are Ordered To Stop--and Probably For A While After That--none Of Us Can Remember The Hate That Led Us Here. We Are Simply Fighting To Survive The War. It Is A Strange Place To Be At Fifteen, Bereft Of Hope And Very Nearly Of Your Humanity. But That Is Where I Am Nonetheless.

Nigerians Are Everywhere. There's An Old Joke, Particularly About The Ibos, That When You Finally Land On Mars, You're Going To Find A Nigerian There Who Has A Shop That Is Selling Coca-cola--who Took A Speculative Trip 20 Years Ago And Has Been Waiting For Everyone Else To Arrive.