All My Skinfolk Ain't Kinfolk.

Someone Is Always At My Elbow Reminding Me That I Am The Grand-daughter Of Slaves. It Fails To Register Depression With Me. Slaver Y Is Sixty Years In The Past. The Operation Was Successful And The Patient Is Doing Well, Thank You. The Terrible Struggle That Made Me An American Out Of A Potential Slave Said "on The Line!" The Reconstruction Said "go!" I Am Off To A Flying Start And I Must Not Halt In The Stretch To Look Behind And Weep.

When The People Sat Around On The Porch And Passed Around The Pictures Of Their Thoughts For The Others To Look At And See, It Was Nice. The Fact That The Thought Pictures Were Always Crayon Enlargements Of Life Made It Even Nicer To Listen To.

She Was Saving Up Feelings For Some Man She Had Never Seen.

A Great State Is A Well-blended Mash Of Something Of All The People And All Of None Of The People. The Liquor Of Statecraft Is Distilled From The Mash You Got.

It Is A Curious Thing To Be A Woman In The Caribbean After You Have Been A Woman In These United States.