I Have A Strong Suspicion . That

I Have Been In Sorrow's Kitchen And Licked Out All The Pots. Then I Have Stood On The Peaky Mountain Wrapped In Rainbows, With A Harp And Sword In My Hands.

I Know That Nothing Is Destructible; Things Merely Change Forms.

Her Old Thoughts Were Going To Come In Handy Now, But New Words Would Have To Be Made And Said To Fit Them.

It Seems That Fighting Is A Game Where Everybody Is The Loser.

It Would Be Against All Nature For All The Negroes To Be Either At The Bottom, Top, Or In Between. We Will Go Where The Internal Drive Carries Us Like Everybody Else. It Is Up To The Individual.