The forties and fifties were years of high poet-incense; the language-flowers were thickly sweet. Those flowers whined and begged white folks to pick them, to find them lovable. Then the ’60s: Independent fire!
GWENDOLYN BROOKSLive not for Battles Won. Live not for The-End-of-the-Song. Live in the along.
More Gwendolyn Brooks Quotes
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I think it must be lonely to be God. Nobody loves a master. No.
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The music is in minors.
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Truth-tellers are not always palatable. There is a preference for candy bars.
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We real cool. We Left school. We Lurk late. We Strike straight. We Sing sin. We Thin gin. We Jazz June. We Die soon.
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Art hurts. Art urges voyages – and it is easier to stay at home.
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No man can give me any word but Wait.
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I swear to keep the dead upon my mind, / Disdain for all time to be overglad.
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And if sun comes how shall we greet him? shall we not dread him, shall we not fear him after so lengthy a session with shade?
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There can be no whiter whiteness than this one: An insurance man’s shirt on its morning run.
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I know that the Black emphasis must be not against white but FOR Black.
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This is the urgency: Live! and have your blooming in the noise of the whirlwind.
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Do not be afraid of no, Who has so far, so very far to go.
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Life must be aromatic. There must be scent, somehow there must be some.
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Goodness begins simply with the fact of life itself.
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We are each other’s harvest; we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS