She had waited all her life for something, and it had killed her when it found her.
When the people sat around on the porch and passed around the pictures of their thoughts for the others to look at and see, it was nice. The fact that the thought pictures were always crayon enlargements of life made it even nicer to listen to.
truth is a letter from courage!
Lack of power and opportunity passes off too often for virtue.
Silence is all the genius a fool has.
Love, I find, is like singing.