Ants In The House Seem To Be,

To Comfort Any Mortal Against Loneliness, One Other Is Enough.

It Seems To Me That The Earth May Be Borrowed But Not Bought. It May Be Used But Not Owned. We Are Tenants, Not Possessors, Lovers And Not Masters.

When A Wave Of Love Takes Over A Human Being... Such An Exaltation Takes Him That He Knows He Has Put His Finger On The Pulse Of The Great Secret And The Great Answer.

Who Owns Cross Creek? The Red-birds, I Think, More Than I, For They Will Have Their Nests Even In The Face Of Delinquent Mortgages..it Seems To Me That The Earth May Be Borrowed, But Not Bought. It May Be Used, But Not Owned. It Gives Itself In Response To Love And Tending, Offers Its Sesonal Flowering And Fruiting. But We Are Tenants And Not Possessors, Lovers, And Not Masters. Cross Creek Belongs To The Wind And The Rain, To The Sun And The Seasons, To The Cosmic Secrecy Of Seed, And Beyond All, To Time..."

I Can Only Tell You That When Long Soul-searching And A Combination Of Circumstances Delivered Me Of My Last Prejudices, There Was An Exalted Sense Of Liberation. It Was Not The Negro Who Became Free, But I.