Books -where if people suffered, they suffered in beautiful language, not in monosyllables, as we did in Kansas

What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? ... Or does it explode?

So since I'm still here livin', I guess I will live on. I could've died for love-- But for livin' I was born.

Keep your hand on the plow. Hold on.

Politics in any country in the world is dangerous. For the poet, politics in any country had better be disguised as poetry. Politics can be the graveyard of the poet. And only poetry can be his resurrection.

Road's in front o' me, Nothin' to do but walk.

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