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pearls

when the swine overwhelm, retreat into the wisdom of these words

Friday, July 07, 2006

Friends and good manners will carry you where money won't go.

I want my careless song to strike no minor key; no fiend to stand between my body's Southern song - the fusion of the South, my body's song and me.

Let a new earth rise. Let another world be born. Let a bloody peace be written in the sky. Let a second generation full of courage issue forth; let a people loving freedom come to growth.

My grandmothers are full of memories, Smelling of soap and onions and wet clay, With veins rolling roughly over quick hands, They have many clean words to say, My grandmothers were strong.

Now when you hates you shrinks up inside and gets littler and you squeezes your heart tight and you stays so mad with peoples you feels sick all the time like you needs the doctor.

The poetry of a people comes from the deep recesses of the unconscious, the irrational and the collective body of our ancestral memories.

The Word of fire burns today On the lips of our prophets in an evil age.

When I was about eight, I decided that the most wonderful thing, next to a human being, was a book.

White folks needs what black folks got just as much as black folks needs what white folks got, and we's all got to stay here mongst each other and git along, that's what.

You is born lucky, and it's better to be born lucky than born rich, cause if you is lucky you can git rich, but if you is born rich and you ain't lucky you is liables to lose all you got.

~Margaret Walker

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