My sense of humor will always stand in the way of my seeing myself, my family, my race or my nation as the whole intent of the universe.

If it was so honorable and glorious to be black, why was it the yellow-skinned people among us had so much prestige?

It seems to me that trying to live without friends is like milking a bear to get cream for your morning coffee. It is a whole lot of trouble, and then not worth much after you get it.

I do not pray. . . . I do not expect God to single me out and grant me advantages over my fellow men. . . . Prayer seems to me a cry of weakness, and an attempt to avoid, by trickery, the rules of the game as laid down. I do not choose to admit weakness. I accept the challenge of responsibility.

It would be against all nature for all the Negroes to be either at the bottom, top, or in between. We will go where the internal drive carries us like everybody else. It is up to the individual.

The present was an egg laid by the past that had the future inside its shell.

The sun had become a light yellow yolk and was walking with red legs across the sky.