Folklore is the boiled-down juice, or pot-likker, of human living.
I have been in Sorrow's kitchen and licked out all the pots. Then I have stood on the peaky mountain wrapped in rainbows, with a harp and sword in my hands.
I note that the Africa loves to depict the grace of reptiles.
To a haughty belly, kindness is hard to swallow and harder to digest.
She stood there until something fell off the shelf inside her.
Honey, de white man is de ruler of everything as fur as Ah been able tuh find out. Maybe it's some place way off in de ocean where de black man is in power, but we don't know nothin' but what we see.