It is because I think so much of warm and sensitive hearts, that I would spare them from being wounded.

[She wasn't] a logically reasoning woman, but God is good, and hearts may count in heaven as high as heads.

Hearts don’t break.
It’s just another thing the poets say.
Hearts are not made
Of glass
Or bone
Or any material that could
Splinter
Or Fragment
Or Shatter.
They don’t
Crack Into Pieces.
They don’t
Fall Apart.
Hearts don’t break.
They just stop working.
An old watch from another time and no parts to fix it.

Ah, if everyone was as sensitive as you! There's no girl who hasn't gone through that. And it's all so unimportant!

From out of your heart, you speak."
-Emma, When Crickets Cry

I'd like to think that when I sing a song, I can let you know all about the heartbreak, struggle, lies and kicks in the ass I've gotten over the years for being black and everything else, without actually saying a word about it.