It's a fine world, though rich in hardships at times.
Hatred destroys the person who hates.
Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.
Ask any Mexican, any Puerto Rican, any black man, any poor person - ask the wretched how they fare in the halls of justice, and then you will know, not whether or not the country is just, but whether or not it has any love for justice, or any concept of it. It is certain, in any case, that ignorance, allied with power, is the most ferocious enemy justice can have.
I can't believe what you say, because I see what you do.
I love America more than any other country in this world, and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually.
To be black and conscious in America is to be in a constant state of rage.
Let us be true: this is the highest maxim of art and of life, the secret of eloquence and of virtue, and of all moral authority.
No one thinks much about their ability to breathe; they just do it. It's when a person can't breathe, that they suddenly realize they'd been doing something truly marvelous all along.
I have my own way to walk and for some reason or other Zen is right in the middle of it wherever I go. So there it is, with all its beautiful purposelessness, and it has become very familiar to me though I do not know "what it is. " Or even if it is an "it. " Not to be foolish and multiply words, I'll say simply that it seems to me that Zen is the very atmosphere of the Gospels, and the Gospels are bursting with it. It is the proper climate for any monk, no matter what kind of monk he may be. If I could not breathe Zen I would probably die of spiritual asphyxiation.
I fairly sizzle with zeal, energy, and enthusiasm; eager to do that which ought to be done by me today.