black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

But the color of a Negro’s skin makes him easily recognizable, makes him suspect, converts him into a defenseless target

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Color Convert Defense Make Recognizable Skin Suspect Target

Bagwalas

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

If a man confessed anything on his death bed, it was the truth; for no man could stare death in the face and lie.
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Anything Bed Confess Face Lie Lying Man Men Stare
Whenever my environment had failed to support or nourish me, I had clutched at books.
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The artist must bow to the monster of his own imagination.
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He had lived and acted on the assumption that he was alone, and now he saw that he had not been. What he had done made others suffer.
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Our too-young and too-new America, lusty because it is lonely, aggressive because it is afraid, insists upon seeing the world in terms of good and bad.
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We smelted iron, danced, made music and folk poems; we sculpted, worked in glass, spun cotton and wool, wove baskets and cloth.
RICHARD WRIGHT

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Anything seemed possible, likely, feasible, because I wanted everything to be possible… Because I had no power to make things happen outside of me in the objective world.
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Anything Environment Happen Objective Outside Possible Sake Seem Want World
Each day when you see us black folk upon the dusty land of your farm or upon the hard pavement of your city streets.
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I was leaving the South to fling myself into the unknown . . .
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Goddamnit, look! We live here and they live there.
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We black and they white. They got things and we ain’t. They do things and we can’t. It’s just like livin’ in jail.
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I listened, vaguely knowing now that I had committed some awful wrong that I could not undo, that I had uttered words I could not recall even though I ached to nullify them.
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We had our own literature, our own systems of law, religion, medicine, science, and education.
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there are times when life’s ends are so raveled that reason and sense cry out that we stop and gather them together again before we can proceed
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The locomotive of my heart was rushing down a dangerously steep slope, heading for a collision, heedless of the warning red lights that blinked all about me, the sirens and the ells and the screams that filled the air.
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Ait Blink Collision Down Fill Heading Heedless Red Rush Scream Steep
I endowed it with unlimited potentialities, redeemed it for the sake of my own hungry and cloudy yearning.
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