“Beneatha: You didn’t tell us what Alaiyo means… for all I know, you might be calling me Little Idiot or something… … Asagai: It means… it means One for Whom Bread–Food–Is Not Enough.”

I think that the glorious thing about the human race is that it does change the world — constantly. The world or ‘life’ may seem to more often overwhelm the human being’s capacity for struggling against being overwhelmed which is remarkable and exhilarating.

American straightforwardness is almost as disarming as Americans invariably think it is.

Seems like God don’t see fit to give the black man nothing but dreams – but He did give us children to make them dreams seem worthwhile.

When a man knows that the abstraction ten exists – nothing on earth can stop him from looking for the fact of eleven.

Once upon a time freedom used to be life-now it’s money. I guess the world really do change.

That’s what being eccentric means–being natural.

This is one of the glories of man, the inventiveness of the human mind and the human spirit: whenever life doesn’t seem to give an answer, we create one.

[T]here is only one large circle that we march in, around and around, each of us with our own little picture — in front of us — our own little mirage that we think is the future.

I look at you and I see the final triumph of stupidity in the world!

One for whom bread- food- is not enough.

Though it be a thrilling and marvellous thing to be merely young and gifted in such times, it is doubly so – doubly dynamic – to be young, gifted and black.

Ball points belong to their age. They make everyone write alike.

The thing that makes you exceptional, if you are at all, is inevitably that which must also make you lonely.

I care. I care about it all. It takes too much energy not to care.

I happen to believe that most people – and this is where I differ from many of my contemporaries, or at least as they express themselves – I think that virtually every human being is dramatically interesting. Not only is he dramatically interesting, he is a creature of stature whoever he is.

There is always something left to love. And if you haven’t learned that, you ain’t learned nothing.

All through the years of the Soviet empire, its Politburo held ‘elections.’ Of course, calling something an election and actually having it be an election are different things.

In Australia, everyone gets a nickname and people started calling me “Izzy” and I hated it so I just adopted Bella.

I looked up to my father when I was 7 and 8. I believed it was my calling to be in the big leagues. I’d been raised by a family that always told me I could do anything I wanted.

We cannot, of course, save the World because we do not have authority over its parts. We can serve the world though. That is everyone’s calling, to lead a life that helps.

We are born seekers, calling strange names into the darkness from our earliest days because we know we are not meant to be alone, and because we know that we await someone whom we cannot always see.

Sex appeal is in the workplace every day of the week. I’m not saying that’s the only calling card, but it’s a whole crayon box.

Charisma is a sign of the calling. Saints and pilgrims are defiantly moved by it.

When nonviolence begins halfway through the war with the aggressor calling time out, it exposes itself as a ruse.