I learned to read from Mrs. Augusta Baker, the children's librarian. ... If that was the only good deed that lady ever did in her life, may she rest in peace. Because that deed saved my life, if not sooner, then later, when sometimes the only thing I had to hold on to was knowing I could read.
Black women sharing close ties with each other, politically or emotionally, are not the enemies of Black men.
The quality of light by which we scrutinize our lives has direct bearing upon the product which we live, and upon the changes which we hope to bring about through those lives.
The absence of any consideration of lesbian consciousness or the consciousness of third world women leaves a serious gap within this conference. . . .
Somedays, if bitterness were a whetstone, I could be sharp as grief.
Hatred is a death wish for the hated, not a life wish for anything else.
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