I have a rendezvous with life.
The loss of love is a terrible thing; They lie who say that death is worse.
[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.
I doubt not God is good, well-meaning, kind
Whatever lives is granted breath But by the grace and sufferance of Death.
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.