I Don't Really Believe In

I Think The Americans Are Dying To Leave Iraq. I Was Against The War But Longed For The Fall Of Saddam; The Decision To Go To War Clearly Was Taken Long Before The Matter Reached The U.n., Given Its Inevitability. I Kept My Fingers Crossed For The Emergence Of Democracy In Iraq Even If That Would Mean Victory For A Man Whose Politics I Have Little Sympathy With.

The Primitive Thinking Of The Supernaturally Inclined Amounts To What His Psychiatric Colleagues Call A Problem, Or An Idea, Of Reference. An Excess Of The Subjective, The Ordering Of The World In Line With Your Needs, An Inability To Contemplate Your Own Unimportance. In Henry's View Such Reasoning Belongs On A Spectrum At Whose Far End, Rearing Like An Abandoned Temple, Lies Psychosis.

My Needs Were Simple I Didn't Bother Much With Themes Or Felicitous Phrases And Skipped Fine Descriptions Of Weather, Landscapes And Interiors. I Wanted Characters I Could Believe In, And I Wanted To Be Made Curious About What Was To Happen To Them. Generally, I Preferred People To Be Falling In And Out Of Love, But I Didn't Mind So Much If They Tried Their Hand At Something Else. It Was Vulgar To Want It, But I Liked Someone To Say 'marry Me' By The End.

Come Back, Come Back To Me

And Feeling Clever, I've Always Thought, Is Just A Sigh Away From Being Cheerful.