I am not tragically colored. There is no great sorrow dammed up in my soul, nor lurking behind my eyes. . . . Even in the helter-skelter skirmish that is my life, I have seen that the world is to the strong regardless of a little pigmentation more or less. No, I do not weep at the world—I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife.
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I do not trust people who don’t love themselves and yet tell me, ‘I love you.’ There is an African saying which is: be careful when a naked person offers you a shirt.