Let The Rain Sing You A Lullaby.

Through My Grandmother's Stories Always Life Moved, Moved Heroically Toward An End. Nobody Ever Cried In My Grandmother's Stories. They Worked, Or Schemed, Or Fought. But No Crying. When My Grandmother Died, I Didn't Cry, Either. Something About My Grandmother's Stories (without Her Ever Having Said So) Taught Me The Uselessness Of Crying About Anything."

Negroes - Sweet And Docile, Meek, Humble, And Kind: Beware The Day - They Change Their Mind.

I Wish The Rent Was Heaven Sent.

I Stay Cool, And Dig All Jive, That's The Way I Stay Alive. My Motto, As I Live And Learn, Is Dig And Be Dug In Return.

Let The Rain Sing You A Lullaby.