There's A Certain Amount Of Traveling In

We Younger Negro Artists Who Create Now Intend To Express Our Individual Dark-skinned Selves Without Fear Or Shame. If White People Are Pleased, We Are Glad. If They Are Not, It Doesn't Matter. We Know We Are Beautiful. And Ugly Too. The Tom-tom Cries And The Tom-tom Laughs. If Colored People Are Pleased, We Are Glad. If They Are Not, It Doesn't Matter Either. We Build Our Temples For Tomorrow, Strong As We Know How, And We Stand On Top Of The Mountain, Free Within Ourselves.

Folks, I'm Telling You, Birthing Is Hard And Dying Is Mean- So Get Yourself A Little Loving In Between.

You And I By Henry Alford My Hand Is Lonely For Your Clasping, Dear; My Ear Is Tired Waiting For Your Call. I Want Your Strength To Help, Your Laugh To Cheer; Heart, Soul And Senses Need You, One And All. I Droop Without Your Full, Frank Sympathy; We Ought To Be Together—you And I; We Want Each Other So, To Comprehend The Dream, The Hope, Things Planned, Or Seen, Or Wrought. Companion, Comforter And Guide And Friend, As Much As Love Asks Love, Does Thought Ask Thought. Life Is So Short, So Fast The Lone Hours Fly, We Ought To Be Together, You And I.

Well, Son, I'll Tell You: Life For Me Ain't Been No Crystal Stair. It's Had Tacks In It, And Splinters, And Boards Torn Up, And Places With No Carpet On The Floor -- Bare. But All The Time I'se Been A-climbin' On, And Reachin' Landin's, And Turnin' Corners, And Sometimes Goin' In The Dark Where There Ain't Been No Light. So Boy, Don't You Turn Back. Don't You Set Down On The Steps 'cause You Finds It's Kinder Hard. Don't You Fall Now -- For I'se Still Goin', Honey, I'se Still Climbin', And Life For Me Ain't Been No Crystal Stair.

The Only Way To Get A Thing Done Is To Start To Do It, Then Keep On Doing It, And Finally You'll Finish It.