Don't come giving me, who's old enough to die and too near blind to create anything any more anyhow, a great big banquet that you eat up in honor of your own stomachs as much as in honor of me- who's toothless and can't eat.

I wish the rent Was heaven sent.

The past has been a mint Of blood and sorrow. That must not be True of tomorrow.

I tire so of hearing people say, Let things take their course. Tomorrow is another day. I do not need my freedom when I'm dead. I cannot live on tomorrow's bread.

We Negro writers, just by being black, have been on the blacklist all our lives. Censorship for us begins at the color line.

An artist must be free to choose what he does, certainly, but he must also never be afraid to do what he might choose.

Beauty for some provides escape, who gain a happiness in eyeing the gorgeous buttocks of the ape or Autumn sunsets exquisitely dying.