If There Were A Better, Clearer, Shorter

We Must Cultivate, All Of Us, A Certain Ignorance, A Certain Blindness, Or Society Will Not Be Tolerable.

Unimaginable Perhaps; But The Unimaginable Is There To Be Imagined.

As For September 11, Let Us Not Too Easily Grant The Americans Possession Of That Date On The Calendar. Like May 1 Or July 14 Or December 25, September 11 May Seem Full Of Significance To Some People, While To Other People It Is Just Another Day.

To The Last We Have Learned Nothing. In All Of Us, Deep Down, There Seems To Be Something Granite And Unteachable. No One Truly Believes, Despite The Hysteria In The Streets That The World Of Tranquil Certainties We Were Born Into Is About To Be Extinguished.

In A World Of Chance Is There A Better And A Worse? We Yield To A Stranger's Embrace Or Give Ourselves To The Waves; For The Blink Of An Eyelid Our Vigilance Relaxes; We Are Asleep; And When We Awake, We Have Lost The Direction Of Our Lives. What Are These Blinks Of An Eyelid, Against Which The Only Defence Is An Eternal And Inhuman Wakefulness? Might They Not Be The Cracks And Chinks Through Which Another Voice, Other Voices, Speak In Our Lives? By What Right Do We Close Our Ears To Them? (susan Barton)