Hatred is the fury of those who do not share our goals, and its object is death and destruction. Anger is a grief of distortions between peers, and its object is change.

There are no new ideas. There are only new ways of making them felt.

Change is the immediate responsibility of each of us, wherever and however we are standing, in whatever arena we choose.

. . . it is through poetry that we give name to those ideas which are-until the poem-nameless and formless, about to be birthed, but already felt.

I was going to die, if not sooner, then later, whether or not I had ever spoken myself. My silences had not protected me. Your silence will not protect you.

I learned so much from listening to people. And all I knew was, the only thing I had was honesty and openness.

Art is not living. It is the use of living.