Let The Rain Sing You A Lullaby.

Anyday, One Can Walk Down The Street In A Big City And See A Thousand People. Any Photographer Can Photograph These People - But Very Few Photographers Can Make Their Prints Not Only Reproductions Of The People Taken, But A Comment Upon Them - Or More, A Comment Upon Their Lives - Or More Still, A Comment Upon The Social Order That Creates These Lives.

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.

Liberty! Freedom! Democracy! True Anyhow No Matter How Many Liars Use Those Words.

What Happens To A Dream Deferred? Does It Dry Up Like A Raisin In The Sun? ... Or Does It Explode?

This Morning I Paid Seventy Cents For Two Little Old Dried-up Slivers Of Bacon And One Cockeyed Egg. It Took Me Till Noon To Get My Appetite Back.