If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!

These are the four that are never content: that have never been filled since the dew began- Jacala's mouth, and the glut of the kite, and the hands of the ape, and the eyes of Man.

Daughter am I in my mother's house, but mistress in my own.

There is no sin greater than ignorance.

They will come back, come back again, As long as the red earth rolls. He never wasted a leaf or a tree. Do you think he would squander souls?

Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.

Who has smelled the woodsmoke at twilight, who has seen the campfire burning, who is quick to read the noises of the night?