Our loss put six feet under ground Is measured by the magnolia's root; Our gain's the intellectual sound Of death's feet round a weedy tomb.
A white person was by definition somebody. Other people needed, across their hearts, one steel rib.
Anything is possible. A man is what he makes up his mind to be.
Whatever I do in life, I'm almost always aware that there's another way to do it.
I like to listen. I'm much more interested in listening than in speaking, for sure.
I think that there is a bias in the current literary climate, which is not only very Western but very male.
When I think about why I would be a writer, why I should continue to be a writer, it seems to me one of the few things you can dowhere you're never bored.
I rarely feel the desire to reread a scene the day before the shooting. Sometimes I arrive at the place where the work is to be done and I do not even know what I am going to shoot. This is the system I prefer: to arrive at the moment when shooting is about to begin, absolutely unprepared, virgin. I often ask to be left alone on the spot for fifteen minutes or half an hour and I let my thoughts wander freely.
Readers and writers are united in their need for solitude, in their pursuit of substance in a time of ever-increasing evanescence: in their reach inward, via print, for a way out of loneliness.
A good aphorism is too hard for the tooth of time, and is not worn away by all the centuries, although it serves as food for every epoch.
I make the girls jump like I'm Kris Kross