I often want to cry. That is the only advantage women have over men — at least they can cry.

before I could read, almost a baby, I imagined that God, this strange thing or person I heard about, was a book.

If she says goodbye perhaps adieu. Adieu - like those old time songs she sang. Always adieu (and all songs say it). If she too says it, or weeps, I'll take her in my arms, my lunatic. She's mad but mine, mine. What will I care for gods or devils or for Fate itself. If she smiles or weeps or both. For me.

I've been so ridiculous all my life that a little bit more or a little bit less hardly matters now.

When he talked his eyes went away from mine and then he forced himself to look straight at me and he began to explain and I knew that he felt very strange with me and that he hated me, and it was funny sitting there and talking like that, knowing he hated me.

They say when trouble comes close ranks, and so the white people did.

Some must cry so that others may be able to laugh the more heartily. Sacrifices are necessary.