I Look In The Mirror, My Only

I Would Run Into The Corner Store, The Bodega, And Just Grab A Paper Bag Or Buy Juice - Anything Just To Get A Paper Bag. And I'd Write The Words On The Paper Bag And Stuff These Ideas In My Pocket Until I Got Back. Then I Would Transfer Them Into The Notebook.

This Is Why We Shouldn't Be Afraid. There Are Two Possibilities: One Is That There's More To Life Than The Physical Life, That Our Souls "will Find An Even Higher Place To Dwell" When This Life Is Over. If That's True, There's No Reason To Fear Failure Or Death. The Other Possibility Is That This Life Is All There Is. And If That's True, Then We Have To Really Live It - We Have To Take It For Everything It Has And "die Enormous" Instead Of "living Dormant," As I Said Way Back On "can I Live." Either Way, Fear Is A Waste Of Time.

On The Night He Died - He Was Twenty-seven - Basquiat Had Been Planning To See A Run-dmc Show. When People Asked Him What His Art Was About, He'd Hit Them With The Same Three Words: "royalty, Heroism, And The Streets.

How Could I Be Out There And Not Do Anything?

Niggas Pray And Pray On My Downfall, But Every Time I Hit The Ground I Bounce Up Like Round Ball