And In The Racial Climate Of This

We're Not Americans, We're Africans Who Happen To Be In America. We Were Kidnapped And Brought Here Against Our Will From Africa. We Didn't Land On Plymouth Rock - That Rock Landed On Us.

Times Change So Quickly That If You And I Don't Keep Up With The Times, We'll Find Ourselves With An Umbrella In Our Hand, Over Our Head, When The Sun Is Out. Or We'll Find Ourselves Standing In The Rain, With The Umbrella Inside The Door.

Like Samson, I Am Ready To Pull Down The White Man's Temple, Knowing Full Well That I Will Be Destroyed By The Falling Rubble.

I Am For Violence If Non-violence Means We Continue Postponing A Solution To The American Black Man's Problem Just To Avoid Violence.

You Can’t Hate The Roots Of The Tree Without Ending Up Hating The Tree. You Can’t Hate Your Origin Without Ending Up Hating Yourself. You Can’t Hate The Land, Your Motherland, The Place That You Come From, And We Can’t Hate Africa Without Ending Up Hating Ourselves. The Black Man In The Western Hemisphere—north America, Central America, South America, And In The Caribbean—is The Best Example Of How One Can Be Made, Skillfully, To Hate Himself That You Can Find Anywhere On This Earth.