Mystery Is The Essence Of Divinity

To Me, Bitterness Is The Under-arm Odor Of Wishful Weakness. It Is The Graceless Acknowledgment Of Defeat.

She Often Spoke To Falling Seeds And Said, "ah Hope You Fall On Soft Ground," Because She Had Heard Seeds Saying That To Each Other As They Passed. The Familiar People And Things Had Failed Her So She Hung Over The Gate And Looked Up The Road Towards Way Off. She Knew Now That Marriage Did Not Make Love. Janie's First Dream Was Dead, So She Became A Woman.

It Was A Weak Spot In Any Nation To Have A Large Body Of Disaffected People Within Its Confusion.

If You Kin See De Light At Daybreak, You Don't Keer If You Die At Dusk. It's So Many People Never Seen De Light At All.

Every Heart Has Its Graveyard.