There are Russian spies here now. And if we're lucky, they'll steal some of our secrets and they'll be two years behind.
Up against Goliath, to bring butter home. I'm David on pavement, sling another stone.
I'm pain in the spoken form; This new strain came from where hope is gone.
Took a vow to protect and serve, All you do is disrespect and murder. I ask that you not hurt my kids; This is where you work. . . this is where I live.
You named them: hustlers, killers, fiends, ex-cons. I called them: cousins, aunts, pops, moms. To you? Hoodlums, crackheads, gunmens. To me? Just neighbors, classmates, young friends.
I'm a cold winter morning, y'all Summer's Eve.
A simple right or left can mean life or death, Epic fail or nice success, Days of pleasure or nights of stress.
This is the day when people reciprocally offer, and receive, the kindest and the warmest wishes, though, in general, without meaning them on one side, or believing them on the other. They are formed by the head, in compliance with custom, though disavowed by the heart, in consequence of nature.
I love walking around and grabbing coffee and sitting in a park and people watching… I love Greenwich Village.
Friendship is love as much as any romance. And like any love, it’s difficult and treacherous and confusing. But in the moment when your knees touch, there’s nothing else you could ever want.
Under patriarchy, no woman is safe to live her life, or to love, or to mother children. Under patriarchy, every woman is a victim, past, present, and future. Under patriarchy, every woman's daughter is a victim, past, present, and future. Under patriarchy, every woman's son is her potential betrayer and also the inevitable rapist or exploiter of another woman.