Whatever Lives Is Granted Breath But By

For We Must Be One Thing Or The Other, An Asset Or A Liability, The Sinew In Your Wing To Help You Soar, Or The Chain To Bind You To Earth.

I Cut My Teeth As The Black Raccoon-- For Implements Of Battle.

The Loss Of Love Is A Terrible Thing; They Lie Who Say That Death Is Worse.

We Were Not Made To Eternally Weep.

What Is Africa To Me: Copper Sun Or Scarlet Sea, Jungle Star Or Jungle Track, Strong Bronzed Men, Or Regal Black Women From Whose Loins I Sprang When The Birds Of Eden Sang?