If The Concept Of God Has Any

Yr Crown Has Been Bought And Paid For. All You Have To Do Is Put It On Yr Head

America Sometimes Resembles, At Least From The Point Of View Of A Black Man, An Exceedingly Monotonous Minstrel Show; The Same Dances, Same Music, Same Jokes. One Has Done (or Been) The Show So Long That One Can Do It In One’s Own Sleep.

You Think Your Pain And Your Heartbreak Are Unprecedented In The History Of The World, But Then You Read.

The Hope Of The World Lies In What One Demands, Not Of Others, But Of Oneself.

In My Case, I Think My Exile Saved My Life, For It Inexorably Confirmed Something Which Americans Appear To Have Great Difficulty Accepting. Which Is, Simply, This: A Man Is Not A Man Until He Is Able And Willing To Accept His Own Vision Of The World, No Matter How Radically This Vision Departs From Others.