"'You scared Lizabeth?' I cursed and spat on the ground-my favorite gesture of showing bravado. 'Y'all children get some stones; I'll show you how to use 'em.'" "She was working placidly, kneeling over the flowers, her dark hand plunged into the golden mound. Suddenly 'zing' -an expertly aimed stone cut the head off one of the blossoms."
" Long after the sobbing stopped, I lay on the palette, still as stone with my hands over my ears, wishing that I too could cry and be conformed. That night was silent now except for the sound of crickets and Joey's soft breathing. But the room was too crowded with fear to allow me to sleep, and finally, feeling the terrible aloneness of 4am, I decided to awaken Joey."
" The years have taken me worlds away from that time and that place, from the dust and squalor of our childish lives and from the bright thing that I destroyed in a blind childish striking out at the God-knows-what. miss Lottie died long ago and many years have passed since I last saw her hurt, completely barren at last, for despite my wild contribution she never planted marigolds again. Yet, there are times when the image of those passionate yellow mounds returns with a painful poignancy for one does not have to be ignorant and poor to find one's life is barren as the dusty yards of one's town. And I too have planted marigolds."