Never Look For A Worm In The

I’s Been Livin’ A Long Time In Yesterday, Sandy Chile, An’ I Knows There Ain’t No Room In De World Fo’ Nothin’ Mo’n Love. I Know, Chile! Ever’thing There Is But Lovin’ Leaves A Rust On Yo’ Soul. An’ To Love Sho ‘nough, You Got To Have A Spot In Yo’ Heart Fo’ Ever’body – Great An’ Small, White An’ Black, An’ Them What’s Good An’ Them What’s Evil – ‘cause Love Ain’t Got No Crowded-out Places Where De Good Ones Stay An’ De Bad Ones Can’t Come In. When It Gets That Way, Then It Ain’t Love.

Books -where If People Suffered, They Suffered In Beautiful Language, Not In Monosyllables, As We Did In Kansas

What Happens To A Dream Deferred? Does It Dry Up Like A Raisin In The Sun? Or Fester Like A Sore-- And Then Run? Does It Stink Like Rotten Meat? Or Crust And Sugar Over-- Like A Syrupy Sweet? Maybe It Just Sags Like A Heavy Load. Or Does It Explode?

The Rhythm Of Life Is A Jazz Rhythm

I Am A Negro: Black As The Night Is Black, Black Like The Depths Of My Africa.