I Think America Concedes That True American

The Blues - The Sound Of A Sinner On Revival Day.

Whenever I Heard The Song Of A Bird And The Answering Call Of Its Mate, I Could Visualize The Notes In Scale, All Built Up Within My Consciousness As A Natural Symphony.

Life Is Like A Trumpet - If You Don't Put Anything Into It, You Don't Get Anything Out Of It.

I Knew The Whistle Of Each Of The River Boats On The Tennessee.

In The South Of Long Ago Whenever A New Man Appeared For Work In Any Of The Laborers Gangs, He Would Be Asked If He Could Sing. If He Could He Got The Job. The Singing Of These Working Men Set The Rhythm For The Work.