Granny always said finding justice was as tough as putting socks on a rooster.

I still loved Granny. It flowed out of my chest. With Granny gone, where would my love go?

I wish I’d paid better attention. I didn’t yet think of time as finite. I didn’t fully appreciate the stories she told me until I became adult, and by then I had to make do with snippets pasted together, a film projected on the back of my mind.

You ain’t got no advantages when you’re small and contrary.”

“I ain’t puny,” I said hotly. “And I ain’t contrary.

The word 'impossible' ain’t in my dictionary.

We don't put our roosters against other roosters, ... cockfight.