between the world and the self

No surprise, then, that sometimes I dreamed of trying to pull a mask off my face, only to realize that the mask was my face.

Of course, I said, reaching for the bottle of scotch. Like me, it was half empty and half full.

The black world was expanding before me, and I could see now that that world was more than a photonegative of that of the people who believe they are white.

And I saw that what divided me from the world was not anything intrinsic to us but the actual injury done by people intent on naming us, intent on believing that what they have named us matters more than anything we could ever actually do.

He who gets behind in a race must forever remain behind or run faster than the man in front.

Reassembling those fragments into confirmation of a shared darkness: If it is true for you, it is true for someone else, and you are no longer alone.

There are people who trick you and deliver emptiness with a smile, while others rob you of your self-respect. You need to remember who you are.

was impossible, like loving the one who wanted to destroy you, but that was the message of the movement: to trust in the ultimate decency that lived in every human heart.

How to get through the day if every indignity capsized you in a ditch? One learned to focus one’s attention.