Life that crawled, life that slunk and crept and never closed its eyes. Life that burrowed and scurried, and life so still it was indistinguishable from the ivy stems on which it lay. Birth, life, and death - each took place on the hidden side of a leaf.

If happiness is anticipation with certainty, we were happy.

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

There in the center of that silence was not eternity but the death of time and a loneliness so profound the word itself had no meaning.

Black boys became criminalized. I was in constant dread for their lives, because they were targets everywhere. They still are.

I know what every colored woman in this country is doing... Dying. Just like me. But the difference is they dying like a stump. Me, I’m going down like one of those redwoods. I sure did live in this world.

Maybe [I care about language] because I'm an editor, maybe because I'm picky, but it's all we got, don't shrink it. Don't dumb it out, make it little.