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.

Love is a naked shadow, On a gnarled and naked tree.

Good morning, daddy! Ain't you heard The boogie-woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely: You'll hear their feet Beating out and beating out a - You think It's a happy beat? Listen to it closely: Ain't you heard something underneath like a - What did I say? Sure, I'm happy! Take it away! Dream Boogie Hey, pop! Re-bop! Mop! Y-e-a-h!

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

One of the great difficulties about being a member of a minority race is that so many kindhearted, well-meaning bores gather around to help.

It were depression, too. They cut my wages down once at the foundry. They cut my wages down again. Then they cut my wages out, also the job.

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