It has become a common feeling, I believe, as we have watched our heroes falling over the years, that our own small stone of activism, which might not seem to measure up to the rugged boulders of heroism we have so admired, is a paltry offering toward the building of an edifice of hope. Many who believe this choose to withhold their offerings out of shame. This is the tragedy of the world. For we can do nothing substantial toward changing our course on the planet, a destructive one, without rousing ourselves, individual by individual, and bringing our small, imperfect stones to the pile.

The hardest part is when you're in danger yourself. You have to face what could happen and might be likely to happen to you. It's not just that you're there standing next to somebody that something bad is likely to happen to. That is a true moment of reckoning with who you really are.

I don’t need a certain number of friends, just a number of friends I can be certain of.

Our mothers and grandmothers ... moving to music not yet written.

Be an outcast. Be pleased to walk alone.

You know, one race will not be a survivor if the other one dies, and that's something that we should think about.

Peace will come wherever it is sincerely invited.