The Late Afternoon Sunlight, Warm As Oil,

I Believe That The Combination Of Pencil And Memory Creates A Kind Of Practical Magic, And Magic Is Dangerous.

The First Thing Was To Get Down To Addie Richardson's Henhouse, And That Was A Goodish Way, Four Or Five Miles. She Found Herself Wondering If The Lord Was Going To Send Her An Eagle To Fly Her Those Four Miles, Or Send Elijah In His Fiery Chariot To Give Her A Lift. Blasphemy," She Told Herself Complacently. "the Lord Provides Strength, Not Taxicabs.

The Old Sleep Poorly. Perhaps They Stand Watch.

Your Pimples Are The Lord's Way Of Chastising You. Now Eat Your Pie.

Just Remember That Dumbo Didn't Need The Feather; The Magic Was In Him.