So Janie Waited A Bloom Time, And

Every Heart Has Its Graveyard.

It Was Not Death She Feared. It Was Misunderstanding.

It Is A Curious Thing To Be A Woman In The Caribbean After You Have Been A Woman In These United States.

I Do Not Pray. . . . I Do Not Expect God To Single Me Out And Grant Me Advantages Over My Fellow Men. . . . Prayer Seems To Me A Cry Of Weakness, And An Attempt To Avoid, By Trickery, The Rules Of The Game As Laid Down. I Do Not Choose To Admit Weakness. I Accept The Challenge Of Responsibility.

I Regret All Of My Books.