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“We are more alike than we are unalike!"
Although there was always generosity in the Negro neighborhood, it was indulged on pain of sacrifice. Whatever was given by Black people to other Blacks was most probably needed as desperately by the donor as by the receiver. A fact which made the giving or receiving a rich exchange.
I don't think she ever knew that a deep-brooding love hung over everything she touched.
But what mother and daughter understand each other, or even have the sympathy for each other's lack of understanding?
Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with the shades of deeper meaning.”
She said that I must always be intolerant of ignorance but understanding of illiteracy.
She encouraged me to listen carefully to what country people called mother wit. That in those homely sayings was couched the collective wisdom of generations.
Childhood's logic never asks to be proved (all conclusions are absolute).
They basked in the righteousness of the poor and the exclusiveness of the downtrodden.
“To Be or Not to Be.” Hadn't he heard the whitefolks? We couldn't be,
Oh, Black known and unknown poets, how often have your auctioned pains sustained us? Who will compute the lonely nights made less lonely by your songs, or by the empty pots made less tragic by your tales?
If an aware person (one who himself uses the stratagem) is given an answer which is truthful but bears only slightly if at all on the question, he knows that the information he seeks is of a private nature and will not be handed to him willingly.
