What We Need Is Hatred. From It

There Is A Close Relationship Between Flowers And Convicts. The Fragility And Delicacy Of The Former Are Of The Same Nature As The Brutal Insensitivity Of The Latter.

What I Did Not Yet Know So Intensely Was The Hatred Of The White American For The Black, A Hatred So Deep That I Wonder If Every White Man In This Country, When He Plants A Tree, Doesn't See Negroes Hanging From Its Branches.

Worse Than Not Realizing The Dreams Of Your Youth, Would Be To Have Been Young And Never Dreamed At All.

I Wanted To Swallow Myself By Opening My Mouth Very Wide And Turning It Over My Head So That It Would Take In My Whole Body, And Then The Universe, Until All That Would Remain Of Me Would Be A Ball Of Eaten Thing Which Little By Little Would Be Annihilated: That Is How I See The End Of The World.

Poetry Is The Break (or Rather The Meeting At The Breaking Point) Between The Visible And The Invisible.