Every Tub Sits On Its Bottom.

There Is Something About Poverty That Smells Like Death.

A Thing Is Mighty Big When Time And Distance Cannot Shrink It.

Some People Could Look At A Mud Puddle And See An Ocean With Ships.

My Head Was Full Of Misty Fumes Of Doubt.

If It Was So Honorable And Glorious To Be Black, Why Was It The Yellow-skinned People Among Us Had So Much Prestige?