What You Don’t Know, You Can’t Tell.

His Mother Called Such People Ignorant And Superstitious, But His Father Only Shook His Head Slowly And Puffed His Pipe And Said That Sometimes Old Stories Had A Grain Or Two Of Truth In Them And It Was Best Not To Take Chances. It Was Why, He Said, He Crossed Himself Whenever A Black Cat Crossed His Path.

I've Always Thought It Would Be Fun To Update "hansel And Gretel." I'd Have These White Parents In The Suburbs With An Income Of Fifty Or Sixty Thousand Dollars. Daddy Loses His Job, And The Wicked Stepmother Says, "we Could Get Along, We Could Keep Our Mastercharge, If You'd Just Get Rid Of Those Shitty Kids." Finally The Father Hires A Limo And Tells The Driver, "drop 'em Off On Lenox Avenue In Harlem At Two In The Morning." These Two Little White Kids Land There. They're Menaced. And This Supposedly Nice Black Lady Says, "would You Like Some Candy?"

Deep Inside Her (ih Her Harrowed Soul) She Felt A Glowing Ember Of Fury At The Man Responsible For This. Tha Man Who Had Put Her In This Position. She Looked At The Pistol Lying Beside The Basin, And Knew That If He Were Here, She Would Use It On Him Without A Moment's Hesitation. Knowing That Made Her Feel Confused About Herself. It Also Made Her Feel A Little Stronger.

For Me, That Emotional Payoff Is What It’s All About. I Want You To Laugh Or Cry When You Read A Story...or Do Both At The Same Time. I Want Your Heart, In Other Words. If You Want To Learn Something, Go To School.

Small Towns Harbor Small Imaginations.