Do not desire to fit in. Desire to oblige yourselves to lead.

The forties and fifties were years of high poet-incense; the language-flowers were thickly sweet. Those flowers whined and begged white folks to pick them, to find them lovable. Then the '60s: Independent fire!

The music is in minors.

I don't like the idea of the black race being diluted out of existence. I like the idea of all of us being here.

I think there are things for all of us to do as long as we're here and we're healthy.

I've always thought of myself as a reporter. When people ask why I don't stop writing, I say, `Look at what's happening in this world. Every day there's something exciting or disturbing to write about.’ With all that's going on, how could I stop?

Art hurts. Art urges voyages - and it is easier to stay at home.