“Behind Nat someone chuckled. Nat turned. Dr. Bentley was looking at him with a twinkle. "Is this a political argument?"Nat shrugged. "No argument at all. Ben's got an article there that talks against the President. I said I didn't want to hear it. I said that sort of thing ought to be stopped."To Nat's amazement, Dr. Bentley shook his head. "No, Nat. We can't have freedom”
“We can't have freedom unless we have freedom. And that means freedom to speak our minds.””
“Well, if 'exciting means drama and people dying and doctors and nurses rushing around like in the movies, then no, it wasn't. But if it means doing something that seems small now but can make a big difference in the long run, then it was.””
“I don’t believe that history holds easy answers or simple lessons, because those answers and lessons are stretched out over thousands”
“The crime’s different but the problem’s the same. It’s about power and prejudice and shit rooted so deep that people don’t see it anymore. You know we’re six times as likely to go to jail as white people, right?””
“There's always been a love-hate thing between me and running. First off, if you don't get started at the ass crack of dawn, the Oklahoma summer sun will melt you into a puddle of good intentions. Plus, it hurts. I mean, have you ever seen a happy jogger? We scowl. We pant and grimace. In fact, if you ever see one of us smiling, you should assume we're a complete psychopath and run for your life.””
T. Latham was a 19th-century writer known for his critical examination of religious practices and controversies within the church community. His notable work, "The Rod in Pickle; Or, an Answer to the ...
“What's that?" he asked."A balance sheet," I said. "To keep track of your payments."He asked whether Pop had written it or me. When I answered truthfully, he handed the paper back like the useless thing it was. "Thank you," he said. "I won't be needing this."Which took me by surprise and set me stammering how it was proof he was making his payments, and how he should take it because it was the right and proper way to do business. "The rules aren't the same for me as they are for you," Joseph replied, shaking his head. "Don't you know that, Will?" Which put my nose out of joint so bad that I told him he was being rude, and that I was only trying to do him a favor at no small risk to myself.Joseph's face went blank as the cloudless sky overhead. He eyed the receipt. Said, "Thank you, Mr. William. But I can't accept." And got back on his bicycle."That all you got to say?" I near shouted, frustrated at how easily he'd turned my good intentions into a fool's errand. And the quickest flash of hate you ever did see danced across the dark of his eyes. I stood there, feeling awkward and a fool. Joseph put one foot on a pedal and said, real quiet, "If you'll excuse me, I've a funeral to attend."Only then did I notice the band of mourning black around his upper arm. "Who died?" I asked stupidly.Joseph's eyes were flat. "Nobody important, Mr. William. Only a Negro boy like me.””
“had been marched like prisoners of war to holding centers and forced to stay there until a white person showed up to vouch for them. Once they were released, they’d had to pin a green card onto their clothes that basically said, “I’m a good Negro.” It wasn’t exactly the same as the yellow stars the Nazis made Jewish people wear, but it wasn’t completely different, either.””
“Yes, Dad was white, but Mom wasn’t. Which meant that to the rest of the world I was black. At Mama Ray’s, I wasn’t the awkward line in a poem. I fit the meter. I rhymed.””
“the ball, and where your safe space will be. Finally, before you receive the ball, you should know what you are going to do with it next. The best soccer players always make early decisions so they don’t get caught with the ball! Before you receive the pass, get into a space where your teammate can see you, so there is a clear line between you and the player with the ball. This will give your teammate the confidence to make the pass to you. Give him””