Jeff Brown Quotes

What to wear? I could think of no guidelines on what we were wearing this season to a party forced on you to celebrate an unwanted engagement that might turn into a violent confrontation with a vengeful maniac. Clearly brown shoes were out, but beyond that nothing really seemed de rigueur.

Moving forward sometimes demands that we live lost, knowingly surrendering our attachment to who we think we are, voluntarily stumbling around in the dark with little to guide us.

To find your way, you will need courage. Lots of it. If you don’t have it, fake it until you make it. Soulshapers are artists, but they are also warriors. It is no easy feat to shape the inner world. You need the heart of a lion to overcome the odds. You need to fight for your right to the light.

Amazing how we push away what we most want to hold close. Humans.

You don’t measure love in time. You measure love in transformation. Sometimes the longest connections yield very little growth, while the briefest of encounters change everything. The heart doesn’t wear a watch - it’s timeless. It doesn’t care how long you know someone. It doesn’t care if you had a 40 year anniversary if there is no juice in the connection. What the heart cares about is resonance. Resonance that opens it, resonance that enlivens it, resonance that calls it home. And when it finds it, the transformation begins…

I had often wondered how a single human heart could hold great love—it is so tiny, and love so vast. The answer is simple: it doesn’t. It spills over. It becomes the everything.

The universe presents us with endless opportunities to synchronize our path with our truth.

What seems like weakness to a survivalist is actually a sign of strength to a spiritual warrior who longs to be authentic at all costs.

So called 'late-bloomers' get a bad rap. Sometimes the people with the greatest potential often take the longest to find their path because their sensitivity is a double edged sword- it lives at the heart of their brilliance, but it also makes them more susceptible to life's pains. Good thing we aren't being penalized for handing in our purpose late. The soul doesn't know a thing about deadlines.

People should think twice before making rude remarks," said Mrs. Lambchop. "And then not make them at all.

Society was built on a foundation of fear, not authenticity. I get too numb when I join the world. I lose my openness, my access to the divine.

There is beauty outside of beauty and there is hope within hopelessness.

You don’t measure love in time. You measure love in transformation.

That’s the thing about great love. It elevates everything around it. You walk through a forest together and it becomes a great temple. You eat a meal together and you sit at God’s banquet table. You merge your bodies and all heaven breaks loose. That’s why we can’t stop singing about love. Every verse is a cry for wholeness.

Sometimes people walk away from love because it is so beautiful that it terrifies them. Sometimes they leave because the connection shines a bright light on their dark places and they are not ready to work them through. Sometimes they run away because they are not developmentally prepared to merge with another- they have more individuation work to do first. Sometimes they take off because love is not a priority in their lives- they have another path and purpose to walk first. Sometimes they end it because they prefer a relationship that is more practical than conscious, one that does not threaten the ways that they organize reality. Because so many of us carry shame, we have a tendency to personalize love's leavings, triggered by the rejection and feelings of abandonment. But this is not always true. Sometimes it has nothing to do with us. Sometimes the one who leaves is just not ready to hold it safe. Sometimes they know something we don't- they know their limits at that moment in time. Real love is no easy path- readiness is everything. May we grieve loss without personalizing it. May we learn to love ourselves in the absence of the lover.

Sometimes I feel crazy being this dramatic about a love that only lasted a few months and...” She interrupted me. “Nothing crazy about it. You don’t measure love like that. You measure it by its effects. It doesn’t matter how long it lasted. It’s how much it grows you that matters.

There can be tremendous loneliness in the crossover to a soul-centered life. Walking through uncharted territory often means walking alone. This is particularly true in the transition stages before we find a conscious soulpod. It can be like primary school all over again—who will be my first real friends?

Unconscious consumerism preys on the uncentered. Once we lose touch with our center, we don’t know who we are anymore, and marketers fill the void by telling us who we ought to be.

There are few things more confusing than going to war with parents who are diminishing you, particularly when you are very young. If you fight for your dignity, you risk losing the love you need from them to develop. If you don’t fight back, you lose your self-respect

Look, I told you before—you can’t heal your heart with your mind. You can only heal your heart with your heart.

Too many of us move through our lives with our true selves buried below layers of repressed emotion. With so much energy channeled toward sustaining the repression, there is little left over for the deeper questions. The consequences of our evasion are profound. Our stockpiles toxify into a cache of weapons that turn inward against the self: quick fix, long suffering. As Rumi said, “Most people guard against the fire, and so end up in it.” This is the power of then. If we don’t deal with our stuff, it deals with us.

It was one thing to be vulnerable when alone, something else entirely to trust another to hold my heart safe.

the real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.

Sometimes love finds you when it’s ready. And when you’re ready too. How that happens is anybody’s guess. Love is the great mystery stew, its secrets well kept, its ingredients known to providence alone. While both people are being prepared, marinated, skewered,cooked to readiness in the fires of life, the cosmic alchemist is turning the pot, reverently preparing the base for the lovers who will meld into it. Only God knows when the stew is ready to be served. Divine timing, Divine dining…

There was no question in my mind. This state of complete and utter love is our collective birthright, the state we are born to inhabit, the way of being that is eagerly awaiting humanity at the end of a long, perilous journey. We either walk toward love as a way of being, or we walk away from it. There are only two directions. This decision shapes our life and our world.

It isn’t for the faint of heart, nor is it ever to be taken lightly. Real love is heartcore.

if you really want to live, it’s imperative that you go back down the path and claim it. You’ve got to be there then before you can be here now. The mystery begins with our history.

At some point, a wave of repressed emotion broke through my armor, demanding expression and release. As I plumbed the depths of my despair, I shed one layer of pain after another. My inner world was like a series of reservoirs, each holding a different wave of emotional memory behind them. When one reservoir burst, another soon appeared. This phase went on for many months—the first of many essential release phases.

With one gaze into her eyes, all words fell away. And it didn’t matter at all. In this place of hearticulation, there was no need for words. This love spoke a language all its own, a grammarless lexicon of longing and union. Who needs syllables when you can hear each other’s souls?

Our ideas of self are fed to us by corporate game artists who wear us down with their generic mantras of compliance until we identify with a socially acceptable idea of self.

May we learn to love ourselves in the absence of the lover.

The more open something is, the more difficulty it has with society.

If there is any need that is perpetually unmet on this planet, it is the need to feel seen. To feel seen in our humanity, in our vulnerability, in our beautiful imperfection. When we are held safe in that, a key turns inside of our hearts, freeing us from our isolation, transforming our inner world. If there is anything we can offer each other, it is the gift of sight. “I see you”-perhaps the most important words we can utter to another. I see you…

Our thoughts are only illusions when they do not reflect who we really are, our emotions only wasteful when we are not seeing them all the way through to the spiritual lessons they contain.

embrace and fully ‘excavate’ our Shadow, the seeming darkness within. Only by fully honoring all aspects of our journey (every wound, every person, every trauma) can we begin to accept and eventually honor all of who we are.” —JOHN POLLARD,

We get more compassionate as we evolve. More humble. More subtle. More aware of how little we know. We don’t get superior. We don’t form cults of personality. We don’t think we have it all worked out. If we imagine ourselves ‘all that’, then we have actually devolved. I trust the ones who know a little something but don’t know a whole lot, more than the ones who ‘know it all’. I trust the ones who realize how far they have yet to travel. We have so much more to learn. All of us. Let’s walk together, side by side.

True champions deal with success and failure, not just success alone.

have to open the gate to our heart. Opening the heart unlocks the heart of the universe, and we see what is always before us.

An affair? Jeff?” “You think it’s beyond him?” “No, I just can’t imagine him working up enough emotion or blood flow to get hard.

Stop looking for answers outside yourself. Don’t ask God, BE GOD. You’re the sculptor of your own reality—don’t hand your tools to anyone else. Even the Big G!

Listen my friend, if one person doesn’t want the relationship, then it’s simply not a fit. No sense trying to figure out why they don’t want it. No sense blaming it on their commitment issues. No sense waiting around for them to realize they wanted it after all. Because it doesn’t matter why they don’t want it. What matters is that you are met heart-on by a fully engaged partner. If they don’t want it, then you don’t want it, because you don’t want to be with someone who isn’t there for it fully. That’s the thing about love relationship— it’s an agreement that has to be signed by both souls. If one doesn’t sign, then nothing has been lost. If it’s not a fit for them, it’s not a fit for you either.

When you see a new trail, or a footprint you do not know, follow it to the point of knowing. —SIOUX PROVERB

It goes to show you. You can look for relationship but you can’t look for love.

However love arrives at your door, it is always a brave path.

To Each Their Path

What the heart cares about is resonance. Resonance that opens it, Resonance that enlivens it, Resonance that calls it home. And when it finds it, the transformation begins...

Everything in me was transforming again. How beautiful, I didn’t even need to be in a relationship for that to happen.

The Unavailable Available Pattern.” It’s where you convince yourself (and others) that you are available for relationship, but you always find a way to stop short. That stopping short can manifest in many ways: choosing unavailable people, looking for excuses to run, focusing on a lover’s imperfections rather than their appealing qualities, getting lost in the excitement of ecstatic possibility until the first glimpse of real vulnerability sends you packing. It’s the addiction to possibility and the fear of intimacy all rolled into one.

After what felt like an eternity, we started to walk the trails. I looked at my watch. We had only been by the river for 30 minutes. So strange. Time lasts forever when you are actually in the moment.

I look forward to the day when we can meet one another in our true nakedness, stripped free of unresolved emotions, pain-induced projections, the distortions of duality. For too long we have been on opposite sides of the river, the bridge between our hearts washed away by a flood of pain. But the time has come to construct a new bridge, one that comes into being with each step we take, one that is fortified with benevolent intentions and authentic self-revealing. As we walk toward one

Is love partnership for everyone? Is it essential to a life well lived, or is that just a cultural myth?

Only a small few can hold the gate open when profound love enters. A blessed and courageous few.

You are the sculptor of your own reality. Don’t hand your tools to anyone else.

The universe had something to do with it, didn’t it?” “Sure, but you were the originator of this.

Every relationship was a world unto itself.

Relationship is always a spiritual practice, even when we imagine it otherwise.

. . . Mrs. Lambchop sighed and shook her head. "You're at the office all day, having fun," she said. "You don't realize what I go through with the boys. They're very difficult." Kids are like that," Mr. Lambchop said. "Phases. Be patient, dear.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT! Due to the cumulative effect of collective sharing and loving intentionality, the Shame Train has derailed at the junction of Self-Belief and Divine Uniqueness. The engine couldn’t run on self-hatred any longer. All formerly shamed passengers please disembark the train. You are free. A new train—fueled by healthy self-regard and sacred purpose—will be along momentarily to pick you up. No tickets required on this self-love train—just a growing faith in your sacred magnificence. All aboard!

Love doesn't fail us, it's our expectations that fail us. Lovers sometimes forget that the gift is the call to love itself, and not the result. The quickening, the deepening, the merging, the burning bright in love's cosmic kiln. That's the great gift, no matter where it leads.

word on shame: If there is any one thing that can hold us back, it is our own self-loathing. If we move through our lives ashamed of ourselves, it is very difficult to imagine and believe in our highest possibilities. Unfortunately we often don’t know how much shame we carry. Droplets of shame get behind our eyes and blind us to who we really are.

Normal. Now, there’s a word. Healthy. A little better, but still stuck in the same conceptual morass. I prefer Authentic. Yes, that’s it. Because it’s subjectively defined. You know when you are being authentic. Authentic as the new normal. Authentic as the new healthy. If we start there, we have a chance of creating a healthy normal. Be real now.

So many of us know the moment when a love connection is over, but few of us stop then. I am not talking about reactive endings. I am talking about the deep intuitive knowing that it is time to move on. Yet we are either too afraid, or too stubborn, or too concerned about the other’s feelings to make our move. But it is perilous to delay, both because we suffer in the wrong connection, and because we hold two souls back from finding the next step on their individual paths. Whether there is another love waiting around the next corner, or whether it is simply time to be alone, no one benefits by staying in an outgrown union. We have to notice the moment of ending and take it to heart. Everyone’s expansion depends on it.

I have this notion that maybe this world is the hell of the angels. That maybe we're creatures with angels exiled in our souls, banished to this godawful existence, howling in despair...and all those beautiful dreams we have are only the ravings of those angels, their screams in our animal minds.

If we age honestly, we become love. As the body weakens, love surges through us, longing to be released, longing to be lived. With no time left to not love, we seek authentic embrace everywhere. Our deft avoidance maneuvers convert into directness. Our armored hearts melt into pools of eternal longing. This is why we should look forward to aging. Finally, after all the masks and disguises fall away, we are left with love alone. God waits for us on the bridge between our hearts.

Every path is a journey to God. We just have to remember to open our heart again and again...

He paused for a while and then looked me in the eye. “Then you are blessed by her absence. Can’t make someone ready to walk a path they aren’t ready for. Just don’t work.” “Sometimes people push each other along...” “No, they got to want it. Listen buddy, if one person doesn’t want the relationship, then it’s simply not a fit. No sense trying to figure out why they don’t want it. No

The body is a universe in and of itself. Built with innate intelligence and vigilant in its own protection. Constantly finding ways to contain painful feelings and emotions so that we can subsist.

wish I could say that it all seemed fantastical. But it wasn’t like that at all. I had just entered an unmistakably deepened reality, one where the terms of engagement are beyond the grasp of the rational mind—one where the soul’s journey is paramount, where essence isn’t a concept but a felt experience.

You are here, now, because you have been loved forward. If not by fellow humans, then surely by Grace itself. That we are here means we are wanted here. It means we belong here. It is our life’s work to uncover why. At the heart of this book is the belief that every individual came into this life with a sacred purpose at the core of their birth. We are not random concentrations of stardust, nor are we accidental tourists. We are divinely inspired, purposeful, and essential to this wondrous human tapestry.

I look forward to the day when we can meet one another in our true nakedness, stripped free of unresolved emotions, pain-induced projections, the distortions of duality. For too long we have been on opposite sides of the river, the bridge between our hearts washed away by a flood of pain. But the time has come to construct a new bridge, one that comes into being with each step we take, one that is fortified with benevolent intentions and authentic self-revealing. As we walk toward one another, our emotional armor falls to the ground, transforming into the light at its source. And when we are ready, we walk right into the Godself at the center of the bridge, puzzled that we ever imagined ourselves separate.

Excessive analysis perpetuates emotional paralysis. Knowing our issues is not the same as healing our issues. In fact, knowing is often a willful act, entirely incongruent with the experience of surrender required to heal. I have known many people who could name their patterns and issues with great insight, but their actions didn’t change a bit. The key to the transformation of challenging patterns and wounds is to heal them from the inside out. Not to analyze them, not to dissociate and dishonor them by calling them the ‘pain body’, not to watch them like an astronomer staring at a faraway planet through a telescope, but to jump right into the heart of them, encouraging their expression and release, stitching them into new possibilities with the thread of love. You want to transform your issues and patterns? Heal your heart.

God knows I wasn’t ready to actually do any healing, but I was ready to write about it. Funny how that works. Funny how we come at things conceptually first, before life pushes us to experience them in real time.

Jeff Brown explores the phenomenon in depth in his film Karmageddon: “After my childhood, I needed the kinds of spirituality that would keep me from allowing the pain to surface…. I was confusing self-avoidance with enlightenment.”9

Unity consciousness is not simply a beautiful vision of possibility-it is our best and truest hope. Until each and every one of us rises into fullness, the collective cannot actualize its wholeness. Until we all rush to the side of someone in need, we are all fractured beings. Until we all recognize that each of us is a magnificent reflection of the Godself, we are collectively blind. Until everyone has what they need to flourish, we are all birds with one wing. The collective is only as healthy as its most challenged individual. Our community is humanity. We rise or fall in unison.

But the one thing all of the people in the Ape Yard had in common was that they were trapped, caught in that basin of poverty and servitude to Doc Bobo in the hollow, and held in place by the weight of the white structure beyond. For them, escape seemed futile at the outset.

I have this notion that maybe this world is the hell of the angels. That maybe we’re creatures with angels exiled in our souls, banished to this godawful existence, crying in despair… and all those fancy frigging dreams we have are only the cries of those poor old angels, their screams in our animal minds

We have a natural tendency to assume that

The more time we spent together, the holier the world became.

The petty details fell away, the essentials emerged.

sensed that I had just penned a reflection of my true destiny: perpetual singlehood. There wasn’t going to be another beloved. My path lay elsewhere.

Real love is no easy path: Readiness is everything.

Why do we turn against ourselves when we most need to give ourselves comfort?

Every member of a family is entitled to their perspective, memories, and feelings about their parents. No two children will have had precisely the same experience. Each dynamic is inherently unique. Yet it is often the case that siblings will attempt to pressure other siblings into seeing things the way they do. They will stubbornly push their own ideas of obligation and duty, and sometimes attempt to influence or manipulate perspectives, with no regard for the fact that their siblings may have endured much more trauma with the parent(s) than they have.

It is often difficult to recognize the connection between early-life feelings of imprisonment, and our subsequent need for space and distance in our adult lives. This can be manifest in many different ways: non-committal relationships, career indecision, a perpetual need to live alone, social avoidance, perpetual mistrust of the world etc. For a time, these manifestations can actually serve a counter-balancing purpose, as our spirits breathe a healthy sigh of relief after years entrapped. If all you know is engulfment, it is essential that you have a taste of safety and spaciousness. But, taken too far, our escape hatches can actually become a prison of their own, one that deepens our isolation and prevents us from forming positive associations with the world. Any imbalanced reality has an imprisoning quality. Just because our early-life environment felt like a prison doesn’t mean that we can’t create a different reality-one that is rooted in healthy connectiveness.

I understand the need for answers about how another feels about us and why they behave the way they do. It is natural to want to make sense of things before deciding to either go in deeper or cut the cord in a relationship. But I do not feel that we should put our lives on hold if those answers are not forthcoming. It may be that they do not have a clear answer, or perhaps they do not have the capacity to communicate their feelings. Or, perhaps they are hiding something. Whatever it is, waiting a long time for another to make things clear is a big mistake. At some point, we need to bring the question home: Why am I putting my life on hold for another? Why am I giving this much power away? What beliefs about my own value are feeding into this holding pattern? If someone can’t or won't communicate, it's truly their loss. We have a precious life to live. Onwards and upwards...

I began to explore more body-centered approaches to emotional healing in the hopes of excavating deeper layers of unresolved material. The exploration began with a massage therapist who adeptly worked through layers of holding in my musculature for two hours per week. Although I was by no means muscle-bound, I was heavily armored, like an impenetrable fortress. As she peeled the armor, older and older memories emerged, muscles with a story that needed to be told.

How do we hold this safe, Lowen?” Sarah wondered aloud. The question struck me. “What do you mean?” I inquired tentatively. “Just being with you is enough. I feel so close to you already. Maybe if we keep it simple, we will avoid the upsets.

Their conversation ceased abruptly with the entry of an oddly-shaped man whose body resembled a certain vegetable. He was a thickset fellow with calloused and jaundiced skin and a patch of brown hair, a frizzy upheaval. We will call him Bell Pepper. Bell Pepper sidled up beside The Drippy Man and looked at the grilled cheese in his hand. The Drippy Man, a bit uncomfortable at the heaviness of the gaze, politely apologized and asked Bell Pepper if he would like one. “Why is one of your legs fatter than the other?” asked Bell Pepper. The Drippy Man realized Bell Pepper was not looking at his sandwich but towards the inconsistency of his leg sizes. “You always get your kicks pointing out defects?” retorted The Drippy Man. “Just curious. Never seen anything like it before.” “I was raised not to feel shame and hide my legs in baggy pants.” “So you flaunt your deformity by wearing short shorts?” “Like you flaunt your pockmarks by not wearing a mask?” Bell Pepper backed away, kicking wide the screen door, making an exit to a porch over hanging a dune of sand that curved into a jagged upward jab of rock. “He is quite sensitive,” commented The Dry Advisor. “Who is he?” “A fellow who once manipulated the money in your wallet but now curses the fellow who does.

Love is a thing in your mind. But, " he said, "you get attached to anybody or anything in this world and you're asking for trouble. What if your love happens to be the wrong color, or you get separated for some reason; what if they marry someone else, or they die? He tapped his skull. "This is where you live, where all the things that matter are stored, where nobody can get at 'em. ...so, they come to take way a love you got--they can't do it, any more'n they can take your good times. It's closed off, safe and warm, and whenever you need it, it's there. It's the only place it ever was anyway

All Summer in a Day” by Ray Bradbury Because of Winn-Dixie by Kate DiCamillo Big Nate series by Lincoln Peirce The Black Cauldron (The Chronicles of Prydain) by Lloyd Alexander The Book Thief  by Markus Zusak Brian’s Hunt by Gary Paulsen Brian’s Winter by Gary Paulsen Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson Bud, Not Buddy by Christopher Paul Curtis The Call of the Wild by Jack London The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Seuss Charlotte’s Web by E. B. White The Chronicles of Narnia series by C. S. Lewis Diary of a Wimpy Kid series by Jeff Kinney Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury The Giver by Lois Lowry Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown Harry Potter series by J. K. Rowling Hatchet by Gary Paulsen The High King (The Chronicles of Prydain) by Lloyd Alexander The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien Holes by Louis Sachar The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins I Am LeBron James by Grace Norwich I Am Stephen Curry by Jon Fishman Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O’Dell Johnny Tremain by Esther Hoskins Forbes Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson LeBron’s Dream Team: How Five Friends Made History by LeBron James and Buzz Bissinger The Lightning Thief  (Percy Jackson and the Olympians) by Rick Riordan A Long Walk to Water by Linda Sue Park The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle Number the Stars by Lois Lowry The Outsiders by S. E. Hinton The River by Gary Paulsen The Sailor Dog by Margaret Wise Brown Sarah, Plain and Tall by Patricia MacLachlan Shiloh by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor “A Sound of Thunder” by Ray Bradbury Star Wars Expanded Universe novels (written by many authors) Star Wars series (written by many authors) The Swiss Family Robinson by Johann D. Wyss Tales from a Not-So-Graceful Ice Princess (Dork Diaries) by Rachel Renée Russell Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing by Judy Blume “The Tell-Tale Heart” by Edgar Allan Poe Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt Under the Blood-Red Sun by Graham Salisbury The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle

They were allowed to name you, but they weren’t allowed to label you. They were allowed to encourage you, but they weren’t allowed to shame you. They were allowed to protect you, but they weren’t allowed to abuse you. They were allowed to teach you, but they weren’t allowed to control you. They were allowed to praise you, but they weren’t allowed to define you. They were allowed to hold you, but they weren’t allowed to fondle you. They were allowed to support you, but they weren’t allowed to abandon you. They were allowed to nourish you, but they weren’t allowed to neglect you. They were allowed to birth you, but they weren’t allowed to worth you.

To make matters worse, the culture is a minefield of distraction. Over-stimulated at every turn, we find that our ideas of the good life often organize around fruitless gratifications and (in)convenient fictions fed to us by corporate dream weavers, preying on the uncentered consumer to further their own ends. Hooked in and worn down, we fall dead asleep on the bed of the marketplace, unknowingly inviting it to creep into our dreamscapes and organize our thinking. There are enemies of the sacred everywhere. Of course, the outer influences are only the tip of the soulberg. We wouldn’t be so easily manipulated by the marketplace if we were at peace with ourselves inside. We worry so much about our future only because we are living in the pain of the past. If you have one foot in the past and one foot in the future, you are pissing on the present.

St. Louis Blues (1929) I hate to see de evenin' sun go down, Hate to see de evenin' sun go down 'Cause ma baby, he done lef' dis town. Feelin' tomorrow like I feel today, Feel tomorrow like I feel today, I'll pack my trunk, make ma git away. Saint Louis woman wid her diamon' rings Pulls dat man 'roun' by her apron strings. 'Twant for powder an' for store-bought hair, De man ah love would not gone nowhere, nowhere. Got de Saint Louis Blues jes as blue as ah can be. That man got a heart lak a rock cast in the sea. Or else he wouldn't have gone so far from me. Doggone it! I loves day man lak a schoolboy loves his pie, Lak a Kentucky Col'nel loves his mint an' rye. I'll love ma baby till the day ah die. Been to de gypsy to get ma fortune tole, To de gypsy, done got ma fortune tole, Cause I'm most wile 'bout ma Jelly Roll. Gypsy done tole me, "Don't you wear no black." Yes, she done told me, "Don't you wear no black. Go to Saint Louis, you can win him back." Help me to Cairo, make Saint Louis by maself, Git to Cairo, find ma old friend Jeff, Gwine to pin maself close to his side; If ah flag his train, I sho' can ride. Got de Saint Louis Blues jes as blue as ah can be. That man got a heart lak a rock cast in the sea. Or else he wouldn't have gone so far from me. Doggone it! I loves day man lak a schoolboy loves his pie, Lak a Kentucky Colonel loves his mint an' rye. I'll love ma baby till the day I die. You ought to see dat stovepipe brown of mine, Lak he owns de Dimon' Joseph line, He'd make a cross-eyed o'man go stone blin'. Blacker than midnight, teeth lak flags of truce, Blackest man in de whole of Saint Louis, Blacker de berry, sweeter am de juice. About a crap game, he knows a pow'ful lot, But when worktime comes, he's on de dot. Gwine to ask him for a cold ten-spot, What it takes to git it, he's cert'nly got. Got de Saint Louis Blues jes as blue as ah can be. Dat man got a heart lak a rock cast in the sea. Or else he wouldn't have gone so far from me. Doggone it! I loves day man lak a schoolboy loves his pie, Lak a Kentucky Col'nel loves his mint an' rye. I'll love ma baby till the day ah die. A black-headed gal makes a freight train jump the track, said a black-headed Gal makes a freight train jump the track, But a long tall gal makes a preacher ball the jack. Lawd, a blonde-headed woman makes a good man leave the town, I said Blonde-headed woman makes a good man leave the town, But a red-headed woman makes a boy slap his papa down. Oh, ashes to ashes and dust to dust, I said ashes to ashes and dust to dust, If my blues don't get you, my jazzing must.

parcel,

another bank was robbed today, the third this month. The unusual robbers—

Enough of crime!” Bustling in,

examination. “Sometimes

Stanley was pleased that his classmates, who still remembered his

Stanley

by