It is crucial for the future of the Black liberation struggle that we remain ever mindful that ours is a shared struggle, that we are each other's fate.

When we choose to love, we choose to move against fear, against alienation and separation. The choice to love is a choice to connect, to find ourselves in the other.

The moment we choose to love we begin to move against domination, against oppression. The moment we choose to love we begin to move towards freedom, to act in ways that liberate ourselves and others.

[O]ne of the most vital ways we sustain ourselves is by building communities of resistance, places where we know we are not alone.

The practice of love is the most powerful antidote to the politics of domination.

As long as women are using class or race power to dominate other women, feminist sisterhood cannot be fully realized.

To be truly visionary we have to root our imagination in our concrete reality while simultaneously imagining possibilities beyond that reality.

What we do is more important than what we say or what we say we believe.

The rage of the oppressed is never the same as the rage of the privileged.

Sometimes people try to destroy you, precisely because they recognize your power - not because they don't see it, but because they see it and they don't want it to exist.

Shaming is one of the deepest tools of imperialist, white supremacist, capitalist patriarchy because shame produces trauma and trauma often produces paralysis.

Quand le doigt montre le ciel, l’imbécile regarde le doigt. [When a finger is pointing up to the sky, only a fool looks at the finger.]

Against the assault of laughter nothing can stand.

I might have practiced stick-handling with my head up a bit more.

I love you. I love your smile, your snarl, your grin, your face when you're sleeping.

Always try to keep a patch of sky above your life.

It's so interesting to watch Ben Stiller work because he just knows what's funny.

At night, I open the window and ask the moon to come and press its face against mine. Breathe into me. Close the language-door and open the love-window. The moon won't use the door, only the window.

I just don't want you to worry about me, or think you've met me, or waste your time anymore.

Where God has put a period, the devil puts a question mark, casting doubt.

I can remember the frustration of not being able to talk. I knew what I wanted to say, but I could not get the words out, so I would just scream.