After All, Tomorrow Is Another Day.

Everywhere, Women Gathered In Knots, Huddled In Groups On Front Porches, On Sidewalks, Even In The Middle Of The Streets, Telling Each Other That No News Is Good News, Trying To Comfort Each Other, Trying To Present A Brave Appearance.

She Was Darkness And He Was Darkness And There Had Never Been Anything Before This Time, Only Darkness And His Lips Upon Her. She Tried To Speak And His Mouth Was Over Hers Again. Suddenly She Had A Wild Thrill Such As She Had Never Known; Joy, Fear, Madness, Excitement, Surrender To Arms That Were Too Strong, Lips Too Bruising, Fate That Moved Too Fast.

The South Produced Statesmen And Soldiers, Planters And Doctors, Lawyers And Poets, But Certainly Not Engineers Or Mechanics. Let The Yankees Adopt Such Low Callings.

Hunger Gnawed At Her Empty Stomach Again And She Said Aloud: 'as God Is My Witness, And God Is My Witness, The Yankees Aren't Going To Lick Me. I'm Going To Live Through This, And When It's Over, I'm Never Going To Be Hungry Again. No, Nor Any Of My Folks. If I Have To Steal Or Kill - As God Is My Witness, I'm Never Going To Be Hungry Again.

You Are A Child If You Thought I Didn’t Know, For All Your Smothering Yourself Under That Hot Lap Robe. Of Course, I Knew. Why Else Do You Think I’ve Been—” He Stopped Suddenly And A Silence Fell Between Them. He Picked Up The Reins And Clucked To The Horse.