If I could make you stay, I would,โ he shouted. โIf I had to beat you, chain you, starve youโif I could make you stay, I would.โ He turned back into the room; the wind blew his hair. He shook his finger at me, grotesquely playful. โOne day, perhaps, you will wish I had.
James A. BaldwinOur 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.
James A. BaldwinOne writes out of one thing only - one's own experience. Everything depends on how relentlessly one forces from this experience the last drop, sweet or bitter, it can possibly give. This is the only real concern of the artist, to recreate out of the disorder of life that order which is art.
James A. Baldwin