We must not be afraid to define our enemy. It is Islamic extremist terrorism. I did not say all of Islam. I said Islamic extremist terrorism. Failing to identify them properly maligns decent Muslims around the world. It also sets up a fear of being politically incorrect that can have serious consequences. And it has.
When we're the story, when we're part of it, we can't know the outcome. It's only later that we think we can see what the story was. But do we ever really know? And does anybody else, perhaps, coming along a little later, does anybody else really care? ... History is written by the survivors, but what is that history? That's the point I was trying to make just now. We don't know what the story is when we're in it, and even after we tell it we're not sure. Because the story doesn't end.
The world of things entered your infant mindTo populate that crystal cabinet.Within its walls the strangest partners met,And things turned thoughts did propagate their kind.For, once within, corporeal fact could findA spirit. Fact and you in mutual debtBuilt there your little microcosm - which yetHad hugest tasks to its small self assigned.Dead men can live there, and converse with stars:Equator speaks with pole, and night with day;Spirit dissolves the world's material bars -A million isolations burn away.The Universe can live and work and plan,At last made God within the mind of man.