There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.
I answer the heroic question, 'Death, where is thy sting?' with 'It is in my heart and mind and memories.
Everybody is worth everything.
Poetry gave me back my voice.
When I try to describe myself to God I say, 'Lord, remember me? Black? Female? Six-foot tall? The writer?' And I almost always get God's attention.
In spite of everything that was done to me and my race, in spite of the adversity and the bitter moments, again we rise.