Like a welcome summer rain, humor may suddenly cleanse and cool the earth, the air and you.

Misery is when you heard on the radio that the neighborhood you live in is a slum but you always thought it was home.

For poems are like rainbows; they escape you quickly.

Melting pot Harlem-Harlem of honey and chocolate and caramel and rum and vinegar and lemon and lime and gall. Dusky dream Harlem rumbling into a nightmare tunnel where the subway from the Bronx keeps right on downtown.

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

I dream a world... where wretchedness will hang its head and joy, like a pearl, attends the needs of all mankind. Of such I dream, my world!

Wear it Like a banner For the proud? Not like a shroud.