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I am a Negro: Black as the night is black, Black like the depths of my Africa.

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
Black
Night
Like
Negro
Depths
Africa
Depth

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Frosting Freedom Is just frosting On somebody else's Cake-- And so must be Till we Learn how to Bake.
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I am the American heartbreak- The rock on which Freedom Stumped its toe.
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Your explanation depresses me, I said. Your nonsense depresses me, said Simple.
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There's a certain amount of traveling in a dream deferred.
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I got the Weary Blues And I can't be satisfied.
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I swear to the Lord, I still can't see, why Democracy means, everybody but me.
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It is the duty of the younger Negro artist . . . to change through the force of his art that old whispering I want to be white, hidden in the aspirations of his people, to Why should I want to be white? I am a Negro - and beautiful!
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An artist must be free to choose what he does, certainly, but he must also never be afraid to do what he might choose.
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To create a market for your writing you have to be consistent, professional, a continuing writer - not just a one-article or a one-story or a one-book man.
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Beauty for some provides escape, who gain a happiness in eyeing the gorgeous buttocks of the ape or Autumn sunsets exquisitely dying.
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What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore-- And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over-- like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags like a heavy load. Or does it explode?
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