The following from Alice Walker
In nature nothing is perfect and everything is perfect. Trees can
be contorted, bend in weird ways, and they are still beautiful.
This kind of thing reminds me why I liked her and actually included her in my book. However, by that time Walker was well along in her efforts to become an oracle instead of a writer. Too bad. She could have been a great writer, The Color Purple and a few other things attest. Instead she often sounds like a half-baked version of Shirley McLain. Which leaves her about quarter-baked, I guess.