I loved my friend He went away from me There's nothing more to say The poem ends, Soft as it began- I loved my friend.

I will not take 'but' for an answer. Negroes have been looking at democracy's 'but' too long.

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

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

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

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

There is no color line in death. I swear to the lord I still can't see Why Democracy means Everybody but me. O, yes, I say it plain, America never was America to me, And yet I swear this oath - America will be! I am the American heartbreak- The rock on which Freedom Stumped its toe.