We had our own literature, our own systems of law, religion, medicine, science, and education.
RICHARD WRIGHTThey hate because they fear, and they fear because they feel that the deepest feelings of their lives are being assaulted and outraged.
More Richard Wright Quotes
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Reading was like a drug, a dope. The novels created moods in which I lived for days.
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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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I didn’t know I was really alive in this world until I felt things hard enough to kill for ’em.
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I could endure the hunger. I had learned to live with hate.
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Whenever my environment had failed to support or nourish me, I had clutched at books.
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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.
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The more closely the author thinks of why he wrote, the more he comes to regard his imagination as a kind of self-generating cement which glued his facts together, and his emotions as a kind of dark and obscure designer of those facts.
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And they do not know why; they are powerless pawns in a blind play of social forces.
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It hugs the easy way of damning those whom it cannot understand, of excluding those who look different, and it salves its conscience with a self-draped cloak of righteousness
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I endowed it with unlimited potentialities, redeemed it for the sake of my own hungry and cloudy yearning.
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Somewhere in the dead of the southern night my life had switched onto the wrong track and without my knowing it.
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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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Love grows from stable relationships, shared experience, loyalty, devotion, trust.
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If you’ve a notion of what man’s heart is, wouldn’t you say that maybe the whole effort of man on earth to build a civilization is simply man’s frantic and frightened attempt to hide himself from himself?
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It made me love talk that sought answers to questions that could help nobody, that could only keep alive in me that enthralling sense of wonder and awe in the face of the drama of human feeling which is hidden by the external drama of life.
RICHARD WRIGHT