“Writing for me is a form of spiritual discipline and creative vision, a means of being in the world and giving one’s love to it without compromise or dilution.”

The more sincere the soul, the heavier the cross endured.

How many fears came between us? Earthquakes, diseases, wars where hell rained smoldering pus from skies made of winged death.

Some have speculated that the way [Albert] Camus died made his theories on absurdity a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Compassion crowns the soul with its truest victory.

Everywhere we shine death and life burn into something new.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s dream was not indicators of weakness but gifts of significant strength.

To what extent will we allow the indefinable dynamics of something called “destiny” to maintain grief and horror in the world?

We rarely get a definitive look at just how complicated and sometimes dangerous their everyday lives were. In fact,

If life is a birthday cake let my face be smeared with its icing of cognac and kindness.

Such are these places where lovers of bliss behold the angel of peace

In honor of Oprah Winfrey: Even greater than the ability to inspire others with hope is the power to motivate them to give as much to the lives of others as they would give to their own

The issue, perhaps, boils down to one of how perceptions or misperceptions of racial difference impact various ‘individuals’, or groups of ‘individuals’

And now we step to the rhythm of miracles. –from The Light, That Never Dies

Careful studies of cases dealing with supposed ‘mental disorder’ have at times revealed that many thought to be insane or warped in some fashion were actually simply highly sensitive individuals.

You were born a child of light’s wonderful secret— you return to the beauty you have always been.

Millions of tears have fallen for black sons, brothers, lovers, and friends whose assailants took or maimed their lives and then simply went on their way.