The racist conscience of America is such that murder does not register as murder really, unless the victim is white... blacks knew that white blood is the coin of freedom in a land where for four hundred years black blood has been shed unremarked and with impunity.

Too much agreement kills a chat.

Everybody changes, not just me.

The object is for everyone to do their own thing, but the thing is to make one's thing the Revolution.

History could pass for a scarlet text, its jot and title graven red in human blood.

We shall have our manhood. We shall have it or the earth will be leveled by our attempts to gain it.

And why does it make you sad to see how everything hangs by such thin and whimsical threads? Because you’re a dreamer, an incredible dreamer, with a tiny spark hidden somewhere inside you which cannot die, which even you cannot kill or quench and which tortures you horribly because all the odds are against its continual burning. In the midst of the foulest decay and putrid savagery, this spark speaks to you of beauty, of human warmth and kindness, of goodness, of greatness, of heroism, of martyrdom, and it speaks to you of love.