Anytime You Catch Folks Lying, They Scared

I Do Not Pray. . . . I Do Not Expect God To Single Me Out And Grant Me Advantages Over My Fellow Men. . . . Prayer Seems To Me A Cry Of Weakness, And An Attempt To Avoid, By Trickery, The Rules Of The Game As Laid Down. I Do Not Choose To Admit Weakness. I Accept The Challenge Of Responsibility.

No Hour Is Ever Eternity, But It Has Its Right To Weep.

I Have Known The Joy And Pain Of Friendship. I Have Served And Been Served. I Have Made Some Good Enemies For Which I Am Not A Bit Sorry. I Have Loved Unselfishly, And I Have Fondled Hatred With The Red-hot Tongs Of Hell. That's Living.

She Was Stretched On Her Back Beneath The Pear Tree Soaking In The Alto Chant Of The Visiting Bees, The Gold Of The Sun And The Panting Breath Of The Breeze When The Inaudible Voice Of It All Came To Her. She Saw A Dust-bearing Bee Sink Into The Sanctum Of A Bloom; The Thousand Sister-calyxes Arch To Meet The Love Embrace And The Ecstatic Shiver Of The Tree From Root To Tiniest Branch Creaming In Every Blossom And Frothing With Delight.

That Is The Way With People ... If They Do You Wrong, They Invent A Bad Name For You, A Good Name For Their Acts And Then Destroy You In The Name Of Virtue.