“This morning I wake to the blue-white light of an approaching spring in New York: the kind of light that promises it will not be this cold forever.”

“If you wake up in the Morning, It's a Good day! And Everything is Fixable!”

“I've matured, maybe, but not grown up.”

“It's not how you pick your nose, it's where you put that booger that counts.”

“I think brown marks a reunion of peoples, an end to ancient wanderings. Rival cultures and creeds conspire with Spring to create children of a beauty, perhaps of a harmony, previously unknown. Or long forgotten. ”

“...God knows, when spring comes to Paris the humbles mortal alive must feel that he dwells in paradise....it [is] the the intimacy with which his eye rests upon the scene. It [is] his Paris. A man does not need to be rich, nor even a citizen, to feel this way about Paris. Paris is filled with poor people - the proudest and filthiest lot of beggars that ever walked the earth... And yet they give the illusion of being at home. It is that which distinguishes the Parisian from all other metropolitan souls. When I think of New York I have a very different feeling. New York makes even a rich man feel his unimportance. New York is cold, glisttering, malign. The buildings dominate. There is a sort of atomic frenzy to the activity going on; the more furious the pace, the more diminished the spirit...Nobody knows what it's all about. Nobody directs the energy. Stupendous. Bizarre. Baffling. A tremendous reactive urge, but absolutely uncoordinated.”

“It was wrong then—for a stupid black city girl to fall in love with a smart southern white boy. But watching him chase the ball until he was right in front of me, I was enamored.”