The true aristocracy and the true proletariat of the world are both in understanding with tragedy.

It is more than their land that you take away from the people. It is their past as well, their roots and their identity. If you take away the things that they have been used to seeing, and will be expecting to see, you may, in a way, as well take their eyes. Isabelle grew up with her eyes open. Her father was a very clever businessman and led a very ordered existence starting with himself to his plantation. She took after her father and was very independent from the earliest of ages. Feigning and improvisation became two of her more prominent subtexts and she used them with the skill of a wunderkind.

The Virgin Mary is the only heavenly creature who is really beloved by millions.

A man’s center of gravity, the substance of his being, consists in what he has executed and performed in his life. The young man was the master of vast acres of sugarcane fields. He had married his childhood love. They grew up together and knew each others deepest secrets and most angelic prayers. As she lay dying, her last request to her young husband was to raise their daughter to be a Southern Lady. He whispered, “I promise.”

Although the ache lay deep in his heart, his reserve lay in his little girl. He gave her the name Isabelle Louise, the name he and his wife had decided on. He did love little Ishy. He showered her with the best of everything. She worshiped him. He hoped that by treating her like a Southern Lady, it would be his best effort to keep his promise to his wife. Ishy matured quickly likely because her father spoke to her like she was an equal. She had the beauty of her mother and the vigor of her father.