My Head Was Full Of Misty Fumes

Two Things Everybody's Got Tuh Do Fuh Theyselves. They Got Tuh Go Tuh God, And They Got Tuh Find Out About Livin' Fuh Theyselves.

It Was A Weak Spot In Any Nation To Have A Large Body Of Disaffected People Within Its Confusion.

I Am Not Tragically Colored. There Is No Great Sorrow Dammed Up In My Soul, Nor Lurking Behind My Eyes. I Do Not Mind At All. I Do Not Belong To The Sobbing School Of Negrohood Who Hold That Nature Somehow Has Given Them A Lowdown Dirty Deal And Whose Feelings Are All Hurt About It. 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.

I Want A Busy Life, A Just Mind, And A Timely Death.

Work Is The Nearest Thing To Happiness That I Can Find.