Well, sometime Mr —— git on me pretty hard. I have to talk to Old Maker. But he my husband. I shrug my shoulders. This life soon be over, I say. Heaven last all ways. You ought to bash Mr —— head open, she say. Think bout heaven later.

There's an ecstatic side to writing. It's like jazz. It just has a life.

Revolt is the mirror in which greed is forced to see itself.

You can't send me anywhere that I wouldn't be happy to go. You'd be surprised as to how that lightens the heart.

You don't need organized religion to connect with the universe. Often a church is the only place you can go to find peace and quiet... But it shouldn't be confused with connecting with one's spirit.

Decide that you know what you think is good for you and go ahead and do it.

I've found, in my own writing, that a little hatred, keenly directed, is a useful thing.