Silence Is All The Genius A Fool

He Looked Like The Love Thoughts Of Women.

To Me, Bitterness Is The Under-arm Odor Of Wishful Weakness. It Is The Graceless Acknowledgment Of Defeat.

If You Kin See De Light At Daybreak, You Don't Keer If You Die At Dusk. It's So Many People Never Seen De Light At All.

Folklore Is The Boiled-down Juice, Or Pot-likker, Of Human Living.

The Monstropolous Beast Had Left His Bed. The Two Hundred Miles A Hour Wind Had Loosed His Chains. He Seized Hold Of His Dikes And Ran Forward Until He Met The Quarters; Uprooted Them Like Grass And Rushed On After His Supposed-to-be Conquerors, Rolling The Dikes, Rolling The Houses, Rolling The People In The Houses Along With Other Timbers. The Sea Was Walking The Earth With A Heavy Heel.