Whiskey Just Naturally Likes Me But Beer

Everything There Is But Lovin' Leaves A Rust On Your Old Soul

Through My Grandmother's Stories Always Life Moved, Moved Heroically Toward An End. Nobody Ever Cried In My Grandmother's Stories. They Worked, Or Schemed, Or Fought. But No Crying. When My Grandmother Died, I Didn't Cry, Either. Something About My Grandmother's Stories (without Her Ever Having Said So) Taught Me The Uselessness Of Crying About Anything."

Well, Son, I'll Tell You: Life For Me Ain't Been No Crystal Stair. It's Had Tacks In It, And Splinters, And Boards Torn Up, And Places With No Carpet On The Floor -- Bare. But All The Time I'se Been A-climbin' On, And Reachin' Landin's, And Turnin' Corners, And Sometimes Goin' In The Dark Where There Ain't Been No Light. So Boy, Don't You Turn Back. Don't You Set Down On The Steps 'cause You Finds It's Kinder Hard. Don't You Fall Now -- For I'se Still Goin', Honey, I'se Still Climbin', And Life For Me Ain't Been No Crystal Stair.

That Justice Is A Blind Goddess Is A Thing To Which We Black Are Wise: Her Bandage Hides Two Festering Sores That Once Perhaps Were Eyes.

Oh, God Of Dust And Rainbows, Help Us To See That Without The Dust The Rainbow Would Not Be.