The future is plump with promise.

We can learn to see each other and see ourselves in each other and recognize that human beings are more alike than we are unalike.

Always in the black spirituals there's that promise that things are going to be better, by and by.

It's hard because people think they have something to lose and the truth is they have everything to gain in trying to love somebody.

Life sometimes gives you a second chance.

Soft you day, be velvet soft, My true love approaches, Look you bright, you dusty sun, Array your golden coaches. Soft you wind, be soft as silk My true love is speaking. Hold you birds, your silver throats, His golden voice I'm seeking. Come you death, in haste, do come My shroud of black be weaving, Quiet my heart, be deathly quiet, My true love is leaving.

The trouble for the thief is not how to steal the chief’s bugle, but where to blow it.