Tea Cake, the son of the Evening Sun, had to die for loving her.

If writers were too wise, perhaps no books would get written at all. It might be better to ask yourself 'Why?”'afterwards than before There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside you.

Every tub sits on its bottom.

They bowed down to him rather, because he was all of these things, and then again he was all of these things because the town bowed down.

Everybody is two beings: one lives and flourishes in the daylight and stands guard. The other being walks and howls at night.

It's a funny thing, the less people have to live for, the less nerve they have to risk losing nothing.

You'se something tuh make uh man forgit to git old and forgit tuh die.