So Janie Waited A Bloom Time, And

Most Things Are Born In The Mothering Darkness And Most Things Die. Darkness Is The Womb Of Creation, My Boy. But The Sun With His Seven Horns Of Flame Is The Father Of Life.

Anybody Depending On Somebody Else's Gods Is Depending On A Fox Not To Eat Chickens.

I Am Not Tragically Colored. There Is No Great Sorrow Dammed Up In My Soul, Nor Lurking Behind My Eyes. I Do Not Mind At All.

They Seemed To Be Staring At The Dark, But Their Eyes Were Watching God.

I Have A Strong Suspicion . That Much That Passes For Constant Love Is A Golded- Up Moment Walking In Its Sleep.