I had lived all of my youthful dreams, but I couldn’t think of many adult ones. I finally realized that we don’t have many dreams for adults because, historically, people have always died much younger than they do today.
The world, as transformed by this creative deed, is better than it would have been had all else remained the same, but had that deed of treason not been done at all.
I am not one of those people who believe that MLK achieved more in martyrdom than he could have if he’d lived: imagine what a guiding influence he could have on the world were he still among us.
Probably all the attention to poetry results in some value, though the attention is more often directed to lesser than to greater values.
Smallpox was the worst disease in history. It killed more people than all the wars in history.
Silence is more musical than any song.
There is not a more repulsive spectacle than on old man who will not forsake the world, which has already forsaken him.
I would be stupid not to be on my own side. But I’m a human being, too. And I’m on the side of human beings, rather than on the side of crocodiles.
There is nothing stronger than the American labor movement. United, we cannot and we will not be turned aside. We’ll work for it, sisters and brothers. We’ll stand for it. Together. Each of us. To bring out the best in America. To bring out the best in ourselves, and each other.
No one who has lived even for a fleeting moment for something other than life in its conventional sense and has experienced the exaltation that this feeling produces can then renounce his new freedom so easily.