Local color has a fatal tendency to remain local; but it is also true that the universal often borders on the void. Carolina Chansons (1922)
Mornings, the flower-women hawk their wares—Bronze caryatids of a genial race,Bearing the bloom-heaped baskets on their heads. Carolina Chansons (1922)
Here the Frenchman, Spaniard, and Englishman all passed, leaving each his legend; and a brilliant and more or less feudal civilization with its aristocracy and slaves has departed with the economic system upon which it rested. Carolina Chansons (1922)