There is no stillness like the quiet of the first cold nights in the fall.

Once you have lived with another, it is a great torture to have to live alone.

Now hoppin'-john was F. Jasmine's very favorite food. She had always warned them to wave a plate of rice and peas before her nose when she was in her coffin, to make certain there was no mistake; for if a breath of life was left in her, she would sit up and eat, but if she smelled the hopping-john, and did not stir, then they could just nail down the coffin and be certain she was truly dead.

But no value has been put on human life; it is given to us free and taken without being paid for. What is it worth? If you look around, at times the value may seem to be little or nothing at all. Often after you have sweated and tried and things are not better for you, there comes a feeling deep down in the soul that you are not worth much.

Maybe when people longed for a thing that bad the longing made them trust in anything that might give it to them.

But all the time-no matter what she was doing-there was music.

It is music that causes the heart to broaden and the listener to grow cold with ecstasy and fright.