And My Problem Was That I Always

I Am Not Ashamed Of My Grandparents For Having Been Slaves. I Am Only Ashamed Of Myself For Having At One Time Being Ashamed.

The Truth Is The Light And The Light Is The Truth.

And While The Ice Was Melting To Form A Flood In Which I Threatened To Drown I Awoke One Afternoon To Find That My First Northern Winter Had Set.

By And Large, The Critics And Readers Gave Me An Affirmed Sense Of My Identity As A Writer. You Might Know This Within Yourself, But To Have It Affirmed By Others Is Of Utmost Importance. Writing Is, After All, A Form Of Communication.

The Clock Ticked With Empty Urgency, As Though Trying To Catch Up With The Time. In The Street A Siren Howled.