It would have been impossible for me to have told anyone what I derived from these novels, for it was nothing less than a sense of life itself.
RICHARD WRIGHTAt the age of twelve I had an attitude toward life that was to endure, that was to make me seek those areas of living that would keep it alive, that was to make me skeptical of everything while seeking everything, tolerant of all and yet critical.
More Richard Wright Quotes
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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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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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I was not leaving the south to forget the south, but so that some day I might understand it
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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 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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Kill them, turn back time to the moment before I had talked so that I could have another chance to save myself.
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I could endure the hunger. I had learned to live with hate.
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Is not life exactly what it ought to be, in a certain sense? Isn’t it only the naive who find all of this baffling?
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It had been only through books-at best, no more than vicarious cultural transfusions-that I had managaed to keep myself alive in a negatively vital way.
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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
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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.
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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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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
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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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If a man confessed anything on his death bed, it was the truth; for no man could stare death in the face and lie.
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But the color of a Negro’s skin makes him easily recognizable, makes him suspect, converts him into a defenseless target
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It was not a matter of believing or disbelieving what I read, but of feeling something new, of being affected by something that made the look of the world different.
RICHARD WRIGHT -
Love grows from stable relationships, shared experience, loyalty, devotion, trust.
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Make up your mind, Snail! You are half inside your house, And halfway out!
RICHARD WRIGHT -
In me was shaping a yearning for a kind of consciousness.
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A mode of being that the way of life about me had said could not be, must not be, and upon which the penalty of death had been placed.
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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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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?
RICHARD WRIGHT -
I did not know if the story was factually true or not, but it was emotionally true […].
RICHARD WRIGHT -
We had our own literature, our own systems of law, religion, medicine, science, and education.
RICHARD WRIGHT