“I feel helpless, hopeless, too low to call out, too weak to think. Impotent tears dribble down.”

“I know it's not good to be weak and helpless. But I don't think it's good to be too strong either. In our society, they talk about survival of the fittest. But we're not animals. We're human.”

“I raced alongside the car but they were too far down the road. Brokenheartedly, I roared out in hopelessness and grief. She was gone.#Ren”

“It is an awful thing to look on such sad circumstance and not be able to shed a tear. It is not because I do not feel for these folks, but maybe I feel too much. Part of me is glad, in a low down, mean way, that it is not Albert's or Mama's graves we are digging. Glad that it is some soldiers I don't know and neighbors and friends but not family. Lord, I must be the cussedest woman there is to think that. Finally, I felt so guilty for thinking those things that I cried. Then I began to feel the heartaches of our friends and neighbors and I cried for them, too, as we said prayers over each and every grave.”

“I tear my heart open, I sew myself shutMy weakness is that I care too much”

“I was too weak to walk. At least, I thought I was too weak. But in truth, I was too weak to try.”