Some Mistakes Are Too Much Fun To

She Was Darkness And He Was Darkness And There Had Never Been Anything Before This Time, Only Darkness And His Lips Upon Her. She Tried To Speak And His Mouth Was Over Hers Again. Suddenly She Had A Wild Thrill Such As She Had Never Known; Joy, Fear, Madness, Excitement, Surrender To Arms That Were Too Strong, Lips Too Bruising, Fate That Moved Too Fast.

The South Produced Statesmen And Soldiers, Planters And Doctors, Lawyers And Poets, But Certainly Not Engineers Or Mechanics. Let The Yankees Adopt Such Low Callings.

And If We Folks Have A Motto, It's This: 'don't Holler - Smile And Bide Your Time.' We've Survived A Passel Of Things That Way, Smiling And Biding Our Time, And We've Gotten To Be Experts At Surviving.

All You Have Done Is To Be Different From Other Women And You Have Made A Little Success Of It. This Is Unforgivable Sin In Any Society. The Mere Fact That You Have Succeed To Run The Mill Is An Insult To Everyman Who Hasn't Succeed.

What’s Broken Is Broken—and I’d Rather Remember It As It Was At Its Best Than Mend It And See The Broken Places As Long As I Live…i’m Too Old To Believe In Such Sentimentalities As Clean Slates And Starting All Over.