Miriam Makeba Quotes

We must all suffer from one of two pains: the pain of discipline or the pain of regret. The difference is discipline weighs ounces while regret weighs tons.

African music, though very old, is always being rediscovered in the West.

The tragedy of civil wars in countries like Angola and Mozambique is that they left many civilians maimed. Poverty is the reason HIV/AIDS spread so rapidly in the African townships and slums. Poverty is the real killer.

I am not satisfied in making money for myself. I endeavor to provide employment for hundreds of the women of my race.

Sometimes, if there are a lot of people around me when I go to a store, I feel a bit intimidated. I used to be shy. I still consider myself shy, but I'm a little better now and I'm getting used to it.

I am a woman who came from the cotton fields of the South. From there, I was promoted to the washtub. From there, I was promoted to the cook kitchen. And from there, I promoted myself into the business of manufacturing hair goods and preparations.

In "Mystery Train" (1955), he rocks out with an astounding depth, Elvis' voice never sounding so rich, nor so pleading; best of all is his final spontaneous laugh & whoop of excitement, worth its weight in gold.

During my recovery, I gave myself self-love and self-care, and I embraced being curvier. I accepted what my body wanted to be, To this day my arms, shoulders, breasts, and thighs are fuller. I have a little mommy pouch, and I’m in no rush to get rid of it. I think it’s real.

Aviation in air, in water and in spirit. Its laws are different in all three cases. The spirit soars the more it weighs and sinks into itself. The heavier the spirit, the higher and farther it flies.

Every being which is endowed with reason, and transgresses its statutes and limitations, is undoubtedly involved in sin by swerving from rectitude and justice.

Niggers was the ones with the rope, hanging off trees; Niggas are the ones with gold ropes, hanging out at clubs.

Meat eating orchids forgive no one just yet
Cut myself on angel hair and baby's breath
Broken hymen of your highness, I'm left black
Throw down your umbilical noose so I can climb right back.

I think I don't know the level of play, so I have to ease in for it, so I have to set myself up for a very good end of year.

Day after day
I turn on the machines,
I dispense their immense memory,
every day
I fire up the motors,
then inside I switch myself off.
...

In New York I heard A Piece of Ground, written by a white South African, Jeremy Taylor. I modified it a little and sang it myself. That song is very special to me because it deals with the land question in southern Africa. We were dispossessed of our land.

I would like to get rid of the homophobes, sexists, and racists in our audience. I know they're out there and it really bothers me.