[W]e have always resented the natural inclination of most white people to demand spirituals the moment it is known that a Negro is about to sing. So often the request has seemed to savor of the feeling that we could do this and this alone.

The key to all strange things is in thy heart..../ My spirit has come home, that sailed the doubtful seas.

Whatever lives is granted breath But by the grace and sufferance of Death.

There is no secret to success except hard work and getting something indefinable which we call 'the breaks.

For we must be one thing or the other, an asset or a liability, the sinew in your wing to help you soar, or the chain to bind you to earth.

I have a rendezvous with life.

We were not made to eternally weep.