Most musicians remain poor. But the music that they make, even if it does not bring them millions, gives millions of people happiness.

Summer was made to give you a taste of what hell is like. Winter was made for landladies to charge high rents and keep cold radiators and make a fortune off of poor tenants.

We younger Negro artists who create now intend to express our individual dark-skinned selves without fear or shame. If white people are pleased we are glad. If they aren?t it doesn?t matter.

Humor is when the joke's on you but hits the other fellow first -- before it boomerangs.

Oh, God of Dust and Rainbows, Help us to see That without the dust the rainbow Would not be.

Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be.

LIBERTY! FREEDOM! DEMOCRACY! True anyhow no matter how many Liars use those words.