I grew up in the South [USA states] under segregation. I know what terrorism feels like - when your father could be taken out in the middle of the night and lynched just because he didn't look like he was in an obeying frame of mind when a white person said something he must do. That's terrorism, too.

There's an ecstatic side to writing. It's like jazz. It just has a life.

As we talked of freedom and justice one day for all, we sat down to steaks. I am eating misery, I thought, as I took the first bite. And spit it out.

I don't know nothing, I think. And glad of it.

Is solace anywhere more comforting than that in the arms of a sister.

Curiosity is my natural state and has led me headlong into every worthwhile experience (never mind the others) I have ever had.

A burnt finger remember the fire.