Won’t it be wonderful when black history and native American history and Jewish history and all of U.S. history is taught from one book. Just U.S. history.
I was married a few times, and one of my husbands was jealous of me writing.
I promised myself that I would write as well as I can, tell the truth, not to tell everything I know, but to make sure that everything I tell is true, as I understand it. And to use the eloquence which my language affords me.
The hope, the hope that lives in the breast of the black American, is just so tremendous that it overwhelms me sometimes.
It’s so tedious writing cookbooks or writing the recipes because I’ve never been much of a measurer. But to write a book, you have to measure everything.
I will not sit in a room with black people when the N word is used. I know it was meant to belittle a person, so I will not sit there and have that poison put on me. Now a black person can say, ‘Oh, you know, I can use this word because I’m black.’
I’m always disappointed when people don’t live up to their potential. I know that a number of people look down on themselves and consequently on everybody who looks like them. But that, too, can change.
The terrorist action of 9/11 gave birth to President Obama’s entry to the White House. Not directly, but indirectly.
How wonderful it is to be an American. We have known the best of times and the worst of times.
Living in a state of terror was new to many white people in America, but black people have been living in a state of terror in this country for more than 400 years.
All information belongs to everybody all the time. It should be available. It should be accessible to the child, to the woman, to the man, to the old person, to the semiliterate, to the presidents of universities, to everyone. It should be open.
If I’m the people’s poet, then I ought to be in people’s hands – and, I hope, in their heart.
I’ve never had a dislike for men. I’ve been badly treated by some. But I’ve been loved greatly by some. I married a lot of them.
I like to speak on matters which matter to human beings, and almost everything matters to human beings.
At one time in my life, from the time I was seven until I was about 13, I didn’t speak. I only spoke to my brother. The reason I didn’t speak: I had been molested, and I told the name of the molester to my brother who told it to the family.
If you’re a human being, you can attempt to do what other human beings have done. We don’t understand talent any more than we understand electricity.