Far away in the thirties and forties she (the girl you want to be) is waiting her turn. Her body, brain, her soul are in your girlish hands. She cannot help herself. What will you leave for her? … Will you throw away her inheritance?

Someone handed me Mexico City Blues in St. Paul [Minnesota] in 1959 and it blew my mind. It was the first poetry that spoke my own language.

Belafonte sent his people to pick me up and I went back and shook his hand, then went back to my little flat. I was very happy to have met a president of the United States - little me!

Jay, you got a very valid point. But on the other hand, shut up!

I had plans for the money, alright... and I would have done just about anything to get my hands on it. Someone else beat me to killing Louis, though. Fine with me. One less step to get what I wanted...

When irony first makes itself known in a young man's life, it can be like his first experience of getting drunk; he has met with a powerful thing which he does not know how to handle.

If I had but a garden for a bower
Wherein the roses of Damascus flower,
How happy, with the Luzumiyat in hand,
To pass the afternoon and sunset hour!

I've burned my own house down, the torch is in my hand.
Now I'll burn down the house of anyone who wants to follow me.

Sometimes, when I get nervous, I stick my hands under my armpits and then I smell them like this!

?So de white man throw down de load and tell de nigger man tuh pick it up. He pick it up because he have to, but he donʼt tote it. He hand it to his womenfolks. De nigger woman is de mule uh de world so fur as Ah can see.’

A man who lived on the banks of the Niger should not wash his hands with spittle.

It is only due to a lack of heart for the Way and a lack of skill in handling their daily conduct that people become vainly tied to fame and gain.

If this is my last night with you,
Hold me like I'm more than just a friend.
Give me a memory I can use,
Take me by the hand while we do
What lovers do.
It matters how this ends
'Cause what if I never love again?

Sai holds the universe in his hand

A mind all logic is like a knife all blade. It makes the hand bleed that uses it.

You have to look at yourself objectively. Analyze yourself like an instrument. You have to be absolutely frank with yourself. Face your handicaps, don't try to hide them. Instead, develop something else.