We were not made to eternally weep.
Whatever lives is granted breath But by the grace and sufferance of Death.
If I am going to be a poet at all, I am going to be POET and not NEGRO POET.
The loss of love is a terrible thing; They lie who say that death is worse.
The key to all strange things is in thy heart..../ My spirit has come home, that sailed the doubtful seas.
All day long and all night through, One thing only must I do: Quench my pride and cool my blood, Lest I perish in the flood.