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I could endure the hunger. I had learned to live with hate.

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Endure Feeling Hate Hunger Hurt Learn Live

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

They hate because they fear, and they fear because they feel that the deepest feelings of their lives are being assaulted and outraged.
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Being Deepest Fear Feeling Hate Live Play
No matter how much he would long for them to forget him, they would not be able to. His family was a part of him, not only in blood, but in spirit.
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Reluctantly, he comes to the conclusion that to account for his book is to account for his life.
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Make up your mind, Snail! You are half inside your house, And halfway out!
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Men can starve from a lack of self-realization as much as they can from a lack of bread.
RICHARD WRIGHT

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What could I dream of that had the barest possibility of coming true?
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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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But to feel that there was feeling denied me, that the very breath of life itself was beyond my reach, that more than anything else hurt, wounded me. I had a new hunger.
RICHARD WRIGHT

Anything Beyond Breath Denied Else Feel Hunger New
I was taking a part of the South to transplant in alien soil, to see if it could grow differently, if it could drink of new and cool rains, bend in strange winds, respond to the warmth of other suns and, perhaps, to bloom
RICHARD WRIGHT

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Don’t leave inferences to be drawn when evidence can be presented.
RICHARD WRIGHT

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Whenever my environment had failed to support or nourish me, I had clutched at books.
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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.
RICHARD WRIGHT

Author Book Closely Come Dark Emotion Fact Imagination Kind More Regard Think Writing Wrote
The spirit I had caught gave me insight into the suffering of others, made me gravitate toward those whose feelings were like my own, made me sit for hours while others told me of their lives, made me strangely tender and cruel, violent and peaceful.
RICHARD WRIGHT

Gratitude Hour Like Live Made Peacefully Spirit Suffer Tender Violent
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.
RICHARD WRIGHT

Ache Another Awful Chance Committed Done Knowing Listen Some Undo Vaguely
The artist must bow to the monster of his own imagination.
RICHARD WRIGHT

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In me was shaping a yearning for a kind of consciousness.
RICHARD WRIGHT

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