May the wind carry her spirit gently May the Fire release her soul, May the Water cleanse her, may the Earth receive her, May the Goddess take her in her arms and guide her to rebirth.

For real food our people had traveled off reservation twenty miles or more to put our money in the pockets of store clerks who watched us with suspicion and took our money with contempt.

When I opened the Gate, I found him in chains
Still he said he is rich

The old man knew he was going far out and he left the smell of the land behind and rowed out into the clean early morning smell of the ocean.

Written By Ernest Hemingway

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