Maya Angelou

Graduation, the hush-hush magic time of frills and gifts and congratulations and diplomas, was finished for me before my name was called. The accomplishment was nothing. The meticulous maps, drawn in three colors of ink, learning and spelling decasyllabic words, memorizing the whole of The Rape of Lucrece - it was for nothing. Donleavy had exposed us.

We were maids and farmers, handymen and washerwomen, and anything higher that we aspired to was farcical and presumptuous.

You saw me bludgeoned by circumstance.
Lost, injured, hurt by chance.
I screamed to the heavens....loudly screamed....
Trying to change our nightmares into dreams...

Many people wonder where my secret lies, I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model size. When I try to show them they think I'm telling lies. I say, it's in the reach of my arms, the span of my hips, the stride of my step, the curl of my lips I'm Woman, Phenominally . I walk in a room just as cool as you please, And to a man the fellows stand, or fall down on their knees. And then they swarm around me; a hive of honey bees. I say, oh it's the fire in my eyes, the flash of my teeth, the swing in my waist, the joy in my feet. Men themselves have wondered what they see in me. They try so much but they can't touch my inner mystery. When I try to show them they say they still can't see. I say oh, it's in the arch of my back. And now you understand just why my head's not bowed. I don't shout or jump about, or have to talk too loud. When you see me walking out it ought to make you proud. I say it's in the click of my heels. The bend of my hair. The palm of my hands. The need for my care, because I'm a woman. Phenomenally. Phenomenal Woman. That's my mother, and all your mothers. And then my grandmothers. And all your grandmothers. And my great grandmothers, And all your great grandmothers. And my great great great, And all your great great... And all you women here, And me.

If you only have one smile in you, give it to the people you love.

I have need of a friend. There is one and only one who will give the air from his failing lungs for my body's mend. And that one is my love.

Weekdays revolved on a sameness wheel. They turned into themselves so steadily and inevitably that each seemed to be the original of yesterday's rough draft. Saturday, however, always broke the mold and dared to be different.

I don’t know about lying for novelists. I look at some of the great novelists, and I think the reason they are great is that they’re telling the truth. The fact is they’re using made-up names, made-up people, made-up places, and made-up times, but they’re telling the truth about the human being — what we are capable of, what makes us lose, laugh, weep, fall down, and gnash our teeth and wring our hands and kill each other and love each other.

If one was dying, it had to be done in style if the dying took place in whitefolks' part of town.

The“b” word and the “n” word are like poison, whether you take poison from a vial or pour it into Bavarian crystal, it is still poison.

That day, I learned that I could be a giver by simply bringing a smile to another person. The ensuing years have taught me that a kind word, a vote of support is a charitable gift. I can move over and make another place for someone. I can turn my music up if it pleases, or down if it is annoying. I may never be known as a philanthropist, but I certainly am a lover of mankind, and I will give freely of my resources.

You only are free when you realize you belong no place — you belong every place — no place at all.

We need much less than we think we need.

The needs of a society determine its ethics.

We grow despite the horror that we feed upon our own tomorrow. We grow.

I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way (s)he handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.