I Have A Rendezvous With Life.

I Cut My Teeth As The Black Raccoon-- For Implements Of Battle.

I Doubt Not God Is Good, Well-meaning, Kind

Africa? A Book One Thumbs Listlessly, Till Slumber Comes.

Death Cut The Strings That Gave Me Life, And Handed Me To Sorrow, The Only Kind Of Middle Wife My Folks Could Beg Or Borrow.

The Truth Is... Everything Counts. Everything. Everything We Do And Everything We Say. Everything Helps Or Hurts; Everything Adds To Or Takes Away From Someone Else.