“ There was an end to weeping. Mourning, however, ebbed and surged but never ceased flowing. ”
Often, the human animal dresses terror in rage, and expresses both in a way unlike either.
~ Julius Lester
Its hardness and solidity had been an odd kind of comfort. Do not wish for anything. Be and endure. The Old African had learned that enduring was power too, and just as he had been drawn to the boulder, so the slaves, after a while, were drawn to him.
... the object of learning was not to build a better mousetrap but to ask a better question.
He took the box but did not avail himself of a tissue. She understood. Sometimes it was comforting to feel the wetness of grief's tears on your face.
