Beloved, you are my sister, you are my daughter, you are my face; you are me.

I wish I’d a knowed more people. I would of loved ‘em all. If I’d a knowed more, I would a loved more

A dream is just a nightmare with lipstick.

Black people are victims of an enormous amount of violence. None of those things can take place without the complicity of the people who run the schools and the city.

Only her tight, tight eyes were left. They were always left...They were everything. Everything was there, in them...Thrown, in this way, into the binding conviction that only a miracle could relieve her, she would never know her beauty. She would see only what there was to see: the eyes of other people.

I like marriage. The idea.

If we had no language we'd have nothing.