Never Love With All Your Heart, It

We Shall Not Always Plant While Others Reap

All Day Long And All Night Through, One Thing Only Must I Do: Quench My Pride And Cool My Blood, Lest I Perish In The Flood.

My Poetry Has Become The Way Of My Giving Out What Music Is Within Me.

Africa? A Book One Thumbs Listlessly, Till Slumber Comes.

[w]e Have Always Resented The Natural Inclination Of Most White People To Demand Spirituals The Moment It Is Known That A Negro Is About To Sing. So Often The Request Has Seemed To Savor Of The Feeling That We Could Do This And This Alone.