We Are Homesick Most For The Places

Now Hoppin'-john Was F. Jasmine's Very Favorite Food. She Had Always Warned Them To Wave A Plate Of Rice And Peas Before Her Nose When She Was In Her Coffin, To Make Certain There Was No Mistake; For If A Breath Of Life Was Left In Her, She Would Sit Up And Eat, But If She Smelled The Hopping-john, And Did Not Stir, Then They Could Just Nail Down The Coffin And Be Certain She Was Truly Dead.

People, Unless They Are Nilly-willy Or Very Sick, Cannot Be Taken Into The Hands And Be Changed Overnight Into Somthing More Worth-while And Profitable.

There Is So Much Truth In Children And So Little Self-consciousness. It Always Strikes Me That They Are So Capable Of Losing And Finding Themselves And Also Losing And Finding Those Things They Feel Close To.

Sometimes This Fellow's Music Was Like Little Colored Pieces Of Crystal Candy, And Other Times It Was The Softest, Saddest Thing She Had Ever Imagined About.

I See A Green Tree. And To Me It Is Green. And You Would Call The Tree Green Also. And We Would Agree On This. But Is The Colour You See As Green The Same Colour I See As Green?