Habit Gives Endurance, And Fatigue Is The

In My Writing I'm Trying To Explore The Violations People Commit Upon Each Other. And The Important Thing Isn't Whether I'm Angry. The More Important Thing Is, Is It True? Do These Things Really Happen?

The Strange Thing About My Life Is That I Came To America At About The Time When Racial Attitudes Were Changing. This Was A Big Help To Me. Also, The People Who Were Most Cruel To Me When I First Came To America Were Black Americans. They Made Absolute Fun Of The Way I Talked, The Way I Dressed. I Couldn't Dance. The People Who Were Most Kind And Loving To Me Were White People. So What Can One Make Of That? Perhaps It Was A Coincidence That All The People Who Found Me Strange Were Black And All The People Who Didn't Were White.

Friendship Is A Simple Thing, And Yet Complicated; Friendship Is On The Surface, Something Natural, Something Taken For Granted, And Yet Underneath One Could Find Worlds.

He Must Have Smiled At Me, Though I Don't Really Know, But I Don't Like To Think That I Would Love Someone Who Hadn't First Smiled At Me.

People Only Say I’m Angry Because I’m Black And I’m A Woman.