To Me, Bitterness Is The Under-arm Odor

So Janie Waited A Bloom Time, And A Green Time And An Orange Time.

I Do Not Pray. . . . I Do Not Expect God To Single Me Out And Grant Me Advantages Over My Fellow Men. . . . Prayer Seems To Me A Cry Of Weakness, And An Attempt To Avoid, By Trickery, The Rules Of The Game As Laid Down. I Do Not Choose To Admit Weakness. I Accept The Challenge Of Responsibility.

I Been Through Living For Years. I Just Ain't Dead Yet.

Anytime You Catch Folks Lying, They Scared Of Something!

When We Sing The Blues, We're Singin' Out Our Hearts, We're Singing Out Our Feelings. Maybe We're Hurt And Just Can't Answer Back, Then We Sing Or Maybe Even Hum The Blues.