I think we all have empathy. We may not have enough courage to display it.

Of course, there are those critics - New York critics as a rule - who say, 'Well, Maya Angelou has a new book out and of course it's good but then she's a natural writer.' Those are the ones I want to grab by the throat and wrestle to the floor because it takes me forever to get it to sing. I work at the language.

You can see in others what they don't see in themselves and what the world doesn't see in them.

I have a son, who is my heart. A wonderful young man, daring and loving and strong and kind.

We, unaccustomed to courage exiles from delight live coiled in shells of loneliness until love leaves its high holy temple and comes into our sight to liberate us into life. Love arrives and in its train come ecstasies old memories of pleasure ancient histories of pain. Yet if we are bold, love strikes away the chains of fear from our souls. We are weaned from our timidity In the flush of love's light we dare be brave And suddenly we see that love costs all we are and will ever be. Yet it is only love which sets us free.

My wish for you is that you continue. Continue to be who and how you are, to astonish a mean world with your acts of kindness.

The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.