“Blue green orange red. I could eat all the colors of the rainbow and still see life in black-and-white reruns I’ve watched a thousand times. – rumination.”

Memories are lifelines to the lives we’ve lost.

I don’t want your sympathy I need salvation. – salvation.

I ate my grief and swallowed salt tears like they were the only things left on earth to consume.

The hardest part of living is experiencing death without dying.

They say the sky’s the limit what happens when you hit the ceiling?

Memories are lifelines to the lives we’ve lost.

Whats your greatest fear? I’m afraid of heights. Do you fear the heights in which you stand or at the depths to which you may fall? – fear of falling.

The hardest part of living is experiencing death without dying.

I hear the rain fall and suddenly I don’t feel so alone because the sky is crying too.

I wonder how different the world would be if we all said what we meant and meant what we said? – speak up.

As the morning dawns my soul stands motionless before your presence be still and know is my hearts meditation.

All of the words in her head keep her from being lonely but they aren’t always kind.

I’m in a constant state of finding myself then losing her all over agin. – the cycle.

I’ll empathize with your sad story and wish you could bear mine. – the weight of empathy.

Let your weary soul rest in between each borrowed breath.

A force of nature an anomaly she was a personified hurricane.

We ought even to hold as a fixed principle that what I see white I believe to be black, if the superior authorities define it to be so.

We should always be disposed to believe that that which appears white is really black, if the hierarchy of the Church so decides.

If you have the power to see things through somebody else’s eyes, it’s like going from black and white to color or two dimensions to three dimensions.

It could have been worse. I could have been born black.

I am a Negro: Black as the night is black, Black like the depths of my Africa.

When white and black meet today, sometimes there is a ready understanding that there has been an encounter between two human beings. But often there is only, or chiefly, an awareness that Two Colors are in the room.

Negro blood is sure powerful, because just one drop of black blood makes a colored man. One drop–you are a Negro! . . . Black is powerful.

Why should I want to be white? I am a Negro – and beautiful!