Literature, It Seems To Me, Is Wisdom.

Your Life Is Already Artful-waiting, Just Waiting, For You To Make It Art.

When You Think Of Sexual Liberation, Which Women Wanted To Have Or Not Have Children, Which Is The Choice, Not A Command, And Other Kinds Of Things They Wanted In Their Relationships With Their Husbands, Or Partners Or What Have You, Became For Subsequent Generations Some License That They Themselves Feel, That Is Absolutely Demeaning And Mean Younger And Younger And Younger.

Black Literature Is Taught As Sociology, As Tolerance, Not As A Serious, Rigorous Art Form.

Never Did He Once Consider Directing His Hatred Toward The Hunters. Such An Emotion Would Have Destroyed Him ... His Subconscious Knew What His Min Did Not Guess-that Hating Them Would Have Consumed Him, Burned Him Up Like A Piece Of Soft Coal, Leaving Only Flakes Of Ash And A Question Mark Of Smoke.

But To Find Out The Truth About How Dreams Die, One Should Never Take The Word Of The Dreamer.