Anger is better. There is a sense of being in anger. A reality and presence. An awareness of worth. It is a lovely surging.

Girl, I got my mind. And what goes on in it. Which is to say, I got me...my lonely is mine.

There is nothing of any consequence in education, in the economy, in city planning, in social policy that does not concern black people.

More than fear of loving bears or birds bigger than cows, I fear pathless nights. How, I wonder, can I find you in the dark?

Lonely was much better than alone.

I wanted to separate color from race. Distinguishing color - light, black, in-between - as the marker for race is really an error.

Deep, deep trouble. Can't rival the dead for love. Lose every time.