In my writing, as much as I could, I tried to find the good, and praise it.

In all of us there is a hunger, marrow-deep, to know our heritage- to know who we are and where we have come from. Without this enriching knowledge, there is a hollow yearning. No matter what our attainments in life, there is still a vacuum, an emptiness, and the most disquieting loneliness.

Brown people wouldn't speak to someone who was black.

That's what happens with writing. Ingredients bubble and cook. Material becomes substance.

Raw, naked truth exchanged between the black man and the white man is what a whole lot more of is needed in this country - to clear the air of the racial mirages, cliches, and lies that this country's very atmosphere has been filled with for four hundred years.

The anti-blackness has generated new forms of youth involvement in anti-whiteness, which in some cases is appalling.

If you go back to before mankind came out of the cave, there was hatred.