There was no need to discuss racial prejudice. Hadn’t we all, black and white, just snatched the remaining Jews from the hell of concentration camps? Race prejudice was dead. A mistake made by a young country. Something to be forgiven as an unpleasant act committed by an intoxicated friend.
The naturally lonely person does not look for comfort in love, but accepts the variables as due course.
Self-pity in its early stage is as snug as a feather mattress. Only when it hardens does it become uncomfortable.
Never let white folks know what you really think. If you’re sad, laugh. If you’re bleeding inside, dance.
I found it hard to think of leaving my books. They had been my elevators out of the midden, and to whom could I entrust such close friends?