The Liquor Of Statecraft Is Distilled From

Here Was Peace. She Pulled In Her Horizon Like A Great Fish-net. Pulled It From Around The Waist Of The World And Draped It Over Her Shoulder. So Much Of Life In Its Meshes! She Called In Her Soul To Come And See.

I Do Not Share The Gloomy Thought That Negroes In America Are Doomed To Be Stomped Out Bodaciously, Nor Even Shackled To The Bottom Of Things. Of Course Some Of Them Will Be Tromped Out, And Some Will Always Be At The Bottom, Keeping Company With Other Bottom-folks.

Truth Is A Letter From Courage!

I Belong To No Race Nor Time. I Am The Eternal Feminine With Its String Of Beads.

She Starched And Ironed Her Face, Forming It Into Just What People Wanted To See.