So Janie Waited A Bloom Time, And

I Had Hundreds Of Books Under My Skin Already. Not Selected Reading, All Of It. Some Of It Could Be Called Trashy. I Had Been Through Nick Carter, Horatio Alger, Bertha M. Clay And The Whole Slew Of Dime Novelists In Addition To Some Really Constructive Reading. I Do Not Regret The Trash. It Has Harmed Me In No Way. It Was A Help, Because Acquiring The Reading Habit Early Is The Important Thing. Taste And Natural Development Will Take Care Of The Rest Later On.

Please God, Please Suh, Don't Let Him Love Nobody Else But Me. Maybe Ah'm Is Uh Fool, Lawd, Lak Dey Say, But Lawd, Ah Been So Lonesome, And Ah Been Waitin', Jesus. Ah Done Waited Uh Long Time.

The Liquor Of Statecraft Is Distilled From The Mash You Got.

Someone Is Always At My Elbow Reminding Me That I Am The Granddaughter Of Slaves. It Fails To Register Depression With Me.

When The People Sat Around On The Porch And Passed Around The Pictures Of Their Thoughts For The Others To Look At And See, It Was Nice. The Fact That The Thought Pictures Were Always Crayon Enlargements Of Life Made It Even Nicer To Listen To.