Ralph Ellison
What and how much had I lost by trying to do only what was expected of me instead of what I myself had wished to do? ― Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man (Vintage International; 2nd edition March 14, 1995) Originally published 1952.
Category: Race
Dee Brown
Nothing lives longOnly the earth and mountains — Dee Brown, Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee: An Indian History of the American West. (Holt Paperbacks; 30th Anniversary edition January 23, 2001) Originally published 1970.
Ralph Ellison
But live you must, and you can either make passive love to your sickness or burn it out and go on to the next conflicting phase. ― Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man. (Vintage International; 2nd edition March 14, 1995) Originally published 1952.
Rodney King
People, I just want to say, you know, can we all get along? Can we get along? Can we stop making it, making it horrible for the older people and the kids? … It’s just not right. It’s not right. It’s not, it’s not going to change anything. [ …] Please, we can get along… Continue reading Rodney King
Audre Lorde
and when we speak we are afraidour words will not be heardnor welcomedbut when we are silentwe are still afraid So it is better to speakrememberingwe were never meant to survive ― Audre Lorde, from “A Litany for Survival,” The Black Unicorn: Poems. (W. W. Norton & Company; Reissue edition August 17, 1995) Originally published… Continue reading Audre Lorde
Audre Lorde
Death folds the corners of my mouth into a heart-shaped star. It sits on my tongue like a stone around which your name blossoms distorted. — Audre Lorde, from “Speechless,” The Collected Poems of Audre Lorde. (W. W. Norton & Company; Reprint edition February 17, 2000)
Audre Lorde
I am the sun and moon and forever hungry the sharpened edge where day and night shall meet and not be one. — Audre Lorde, from “From the House of Yemanjá,” The Black Unicorn: Poems. (W. W. Norton & Company; Reissue edition, August 17, 1995) Originally published 1978.
Saeed Jones
Her blue dress is a silk train is a river is water seeps into the cobblestone streets of my sleep, is still raining is monsoon brocade, is winter stars stitched into puddles is good-bye in a flooded, antique room, is good-bye in a room of crystal bowls and crystal cups, is the ring-ting-ring of water… Continue reading Saeed Jones
Claudia Rankin
Yes, and the body has memory. The physical carriage hauls more than its weight. The body is the threshold across which each objectionable call passes into consciousness-all the unintimidated, unblinking, and unflappable resilience does not erase the moments lived through, even as we are eternally stupid or everlastingly optimistic, so ready to be inside, among,… Continue reading Claudia Rankin
Audre Lorde
Do not remember me as disaster nor as the keeper of secrets I am a fellow rider in the cattle cars watching you move slowly out of my bed saying we cannot waste time only ourselves. — Audre Lorde, from “Movement Song,” The Collected Poems of Audre Lorde (W. W. Norton and Company Inc. 1997)
The Vale of Soul-Making 