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Frosting Freedom Is just frosting On somebody else's Cake-- And so must be Till we Learn how to Bake.
Langston Hughes
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Langston Hughes
Age: 66 †
Born: 1901
Born: February 1
Died: 1967
Died: May 22
Biographer
Essayist
Journalist
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Writer
Joplin
Missouri
James Langston Hughes
James Mercer Langston Hughes
Must
Frosting
Bake
Cake
Till
Somebody
Freedom
Learn
Else
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Whiskey just naturally likes me but beer likes me better.
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Go home and write / a page tonight. / And let that page come out of you - / Then, it will be true.
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Misery is when you heard on the radio that the neighborhood you live in is a slum but you always thought it was home.
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I am a Negro: Black as the night is black, Black like the depths of my Africa.
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Rest at pale evening... A tall slim tree... Night coming tenderly Black like me
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Everybody should take each other as they are, white, black, Indians, Creole. Then there would be no prejudice, nations would get along.
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As long as what is is-and Georgia is Georgia-I will take Harlem for mine. At least, if trouble comes, I will have my own window to shoot from.
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I will not take 'but' for an answer. Negroes have been looking at democracy's 'but' too long.
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Blues had the pulse beat of the people who keep on going.
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I got the Weary Blues And I can't be satisfied.
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There is no color line in art.
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Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly.
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Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think I suffer after I have held my pain So long? Because my mouth Is wide with laughter You do not hear My inner cry? Because my feet Are gay with dancing You do not know I die?
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What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? ... Or does it explode?
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We Negro writers, just by being black, have been on the blacklist all our lives. Censorship for us begins at the color line.
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When poems stop talking about the moon and begin to mention poverty, trade unions, color, color lines and colonies, somebody tells the police.
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Democracy will not come Today, this year Nor ever Through compromise and fear.
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Good evening, daddy! Ain't you heard The boogie-woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Trilling the treble And twining the bass Into midnight ruffles Of cat-gut lace.
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I have discovered in life that there are ways of getting almost anywhere you want to go, if you really want to go.
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Negroes - Sweet and docile, Meek, humble, and kind: Beware the day - They change their mind.
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