“I meditated on love and reasoned it out. I realized what is wrong with us. Men fall in love for the first time. And what do they fall in love with? …They fall in love with a woman. They start at the wrong end of love. They begin at the climax.”

It was better to be in a jail where you could bang the walls than in a jail you could not see.

I´m a stranger in a strange land.

The memories of childhood are like clear candles in an acre of night, illuminating fixed scenes from surrounding darkness.

She wished there was some place where she could go to hum it out loud. Some kind of music was too private to sing in a house cram fall of people. It was funny, too, how lonesome a person could be in a crowded house.

The bewildered soul can answer only: “Since I do not understand ‘Who I am,’ I only know what I am not.” The corollary of this emotional incertitude is snobbism, intolerance and racial hate.

The most fatal thing a man can do is try to stand alone.

If you look around, at times the value may seem to be little or nothing at all. Often after you have sweated and tried and things are not better for you, there comes a feeling deep down in the soul that you are not worth much.

I have more to say than Hemingway, and God knows, I say it better than Faulkner.

Southerners are the more lonely and spiritually estranged, I think, because we have lived so long in an artificial social system that we insisted was natural and right and just – when all along we knew it wasn’t.

Comparing the Brooklyn that I know with Manhattan is like comparing a comfortable and complacent duenna to her more brilliant and neurotic sister.

Death is the great gamer with a sleeve of tricks.

In his face there came to be a brooding peace that is seen most often in the faces of the very sorrowful or the very wise. But still he wandered through the streets of the town, always silent and alone.

Wherever you look there’s meanness and corruption. This room, this bottle of grape wine, these fruits in the basket, are all products of profit and loss.

For in a swift radiance of illumination he saw a glimpse of human struggle and valor. Of the endless fluid passage of the humanity through endless time. And of those who labor and of those who – one word- love. His soul expanded. But for a moment only. For in him, he felt a warning, a shaft of terror.

This was her, Mick Kelly, walking in the daytime and by herself at night. In the hot sun and in the dark with all the plans and feelings.

The beloved fears and hates the lover, and with the best of reasons. For the lover is forever trying to strip bare his beloved.

I never stood a chance. He stole your heart first.

He stole my breathe away the moment we first spoke. He’s my air.” -Sadie White

For the first time, the object of what I want is more important than fulfilling my desires.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life.

What if she never remembers?” “Then you better make her fall in love with you, again.” “How did I do it the first time?” “You let her in.

I am the first instrument. I am the voice. I do not imitate other instruments. Other instruments imitate me.

In real life, when someone’s partner calls them, they can tell from the first word their partner says what their mood is.

Not even battling but just really known for rapping. Like I had songs up on Soundclick first, take it back.