We are all devastated by the events that have taken place recently. I offer these words of inspiration and of truth. Read on...
This was the column from a few days ago from Leonard Pitts.
  He writes for The Miami Herald:
  
  It's my job to have something to say.
  They pay me to provide words that help make
  sense of that which troubles the American
  soul. But in this moment of airless shock
  when hot tears sting disbelieving eyes, the
  only thing I can find to say, the only words
  that seem to fit, must be addressed to the
  unknown author of this suffering.
  
  You monster. You beast. You unspeakable
  bastard.
  
  What lesson did you hope to teach us by your
  coward's attack on our World Trade Center,
  our Pentagon, us? What was it you hoped we
  would learn? Whatever it was, please know
  that you failed.
  
  Did you want us to respect your cause? You
  just damned your cause.
  
  Did you want to make us fear? You just
  steeled our resolve.
  
  Did you want to tear us apart? You just
  brought us together.
  
  Let me tell you about my people. We are a
  vast and quarrelsome family, a family rent
  by racial, social, political and class
  division, but a family nonetheless. We're
  frivolous, yes, capable of expending
  tremendous emotional energy on pop cultural
  minutiae -- a singer's revealing dress, a
  ball team's misfortune, a cartoon mouse.
  
  We're wealthy, too, spoiled by the ready
  availability of trinkets and material goods,
  and maybe because of that, we walk through
  life with a certain sense of blithe
  entitlement. We are fundamentally decent,
  though -- peace-loving and compassionate. We
  struggle to know the right thing and to do
  it. And we are, the overwhelming majority of
  us, people of faith, believers in a just and
  loving God.
  
  Some people -- you, perhaps -- think that
  any or all of this makes us weak. You're
  mistaken. We are not weak. Indeed, we are
  strong in ways that cannot be measured by
  arsenals.
  
  Yes, we're in pain now. We are in mourning
  and we are in shock. We're still grappling
  with the unreality of the awful thing you
  did, still working to make ourselves
  understand that this isn't a special effect
  from some Hollywood blockbuster, isn't the
  plot development from a Tom Clancy novel.
  Both in terms of the awful scope of their
  ambition and the probable final death toll,
  your attacks are likely to go down as the
  worst acts of terrorism in the history of
  the United States and, probably, the history
  of the world. You've bloodied us as we have
  never been bloodied before.
  
  But there's a gulf of difference between
  making us bloody and making us fall. This is
  the lesson Japan was taught to its bitter
  sorrow the last time anyone hit us this
  hard, the last time anyone brought us such
  abrupt and monumental pain. When roused, we
  are righteous in our outrage, terrible in
  our force. When provoked by this level of
  barbarism, we will bear any suffering, pay
  any cost, go to any length, in the pursuit
  of justice.
  
  I tell you this without fear of
  contradiction. I know my people, as you, I
  think, do not. What I know reassures me. It
  also causes me to tremble with dread of the
  future.
  
  In the days to come, there will be
  recrimination and accusation, fingers
  pointing to determine whose failure allowed
  this to happen and what can be done to
  prevent it from happening again. There will
  be heightened security, misguided talk of
  revoking basic freedoms. We'll go forward
  from this moment sobered, chastened, sad.
  But determined, too. Unimaginably
  determined.
  
  You see, the steel in us is not always
  readily apparent. That aspect of our
  character is seldom understood by people who
  don't know us well. On this day, the
  family's bickering is put on hold.
  
  As Americans we will weep, as Americans we
  will mourn, and as Americans, we will rise
  in defense of all that we cherish.
  
  So I ask again: What was it you hoped to
  teach us? It occurs to me that maybe you
  just wanted us to know the depths of your
  hatred. If that's the case, consider the
  message received. And take this message in
  exchange: You don't know my people. You
  don't know what we're capable of. You don't
  know what you just started.
  
  But you're about to learn.