A Dead Tree, Falling, Made Less Havoc

The Test Of Beauty Is Whether It Can Survive Close Knowledge.

I Can Only Tell You That When Long Soul-searching And A Combination Of Circumstances Delivered Me Of My Last Prejudices, There Was An Exalted Sense Of Liberation. It Was Not The Negro Who Became Free, But I.

Ants In The House Seem To Be, Not Intruders, But The Owners.

A Dead Tree, Falling, Made Less Havoc Than A Live One. It Seemed As Though A Live Tree Went Down Fighting, Like An Animal.

Food Imaginatively And Lovingly Prepared, And Eaten In Good Company, Warms The Being With Something More Than The Mere Intake Of Calories. I Cannot Conceive Of Cooking For Friends Or Family, Under Reasonable Conditions, As Being A Chore.