I didn’t know I was really alive in this world until I felt things hard enough to kill for ’em.
RICHARD WRIGHTI endowed it with unlimited potentialities, redeemed it for the sake of my own hungry and cloudy yearning.
More Richard Wright Quotes
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We had our own civilization in Africa before we were captured and carried off to this land.
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Whenever my environment had failed to support or nourish me, I had clutched at books.
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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.
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Goddamnit, look! We live here and they live there.
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I made things happen within. Because my environment was bare and bleak,
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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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Love grows from stable relationships, shared experience, loyalty, devotion, trust.
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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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The holy and the evil, the high and the low, the white and the black; our America is frightened of fact, of history, of processes, of necessity.
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The artist must bow to the monster of his own imagination.
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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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Hunger has always been more or less at my elbow when I played, but now I began to wake up at night to find hunger standing at my bedside, staring at my gauntly.
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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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Pity can purge us of hostility and arouse feelings of identification with the characters, but it can also be a consoling reassurance which leads us to believe that we have understood, and that, in pitying, we have even done something to right a wrong.
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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
RICHARD WRIGHT