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 BROOKSWriting is a delicious agony.
More Gwendolyn Brooks Quotes
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I felt that I had to write. Even if I had never been published, I knew that I would go on writing, enjoying it and experiencing the challenge.
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The poetry is myself.
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Life must be aromatic. There must be scent, somehow there must be some.
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She was learning to love moments. To love moments for themselves.
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We are each other’s harvest; we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.
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With melted opals for my milk, Pearl-leaf for my cracker.
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Already I am no longer looked at with lechery or love.
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Books are meat and medicine and flame and flight and flower steel, stitch, cloud and clout, and drumbeats on the air.
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Exhaust the little moment soon it dies.
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To be in love Is to touch things with a lighter hand. In yourself you stretch, you are well.
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It frightens me to realize that, if I had died before the age of fifty, I would have died a ‘Negro’ fraction.
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Poetry is life distilled.
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When you love a man, he becomes more than a body. His physical limbs expand, and his outline recedes, vanishes. He is rich and sweet and right. He is part of the world, the atmosphere, the blue sky and the blue water.
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Exhaust the little moment. Soon it dies. And be it gash or gold it will not come again in this identical guise.
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I like the concentration, the crush; I like working with language, as others like working with clay, or notes.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS