The purpose of art is to lay bare the questions that have been hidden by the answers.

In order for this to happen, your entire frame of reference will have to change, and you will be forced to surrender many things that you now scarcely know you have.

The occurrence of an event is not the same thing as knowing what it is that one has lived through.

Hatred, which could destroy so much, never failed to destroy the man who hated, and this was an immutable law.

An identity would seem to be arrived at by the way in which the person faces and uses his experience.

There are few things under heaven more unnerving than the silent, accumulating contempt and hatred of a people.

Our dehumanization of the Negro then is indivisible from our dehumanization of ourselves; the loss of our own identity is the price we pay for our annulment of his.