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This morning I paid seventy cents for two little old dried-up slivers of bacon and one cockeyed egg. It took me till noon to get my appetite back.
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
Eating
Seventy
Took
Noon
Morning
Seventies
Two
Cents
Littles
Appetite
Slivers
Back
Eggs
Cockeyed
Little
Till
Dried
Paid
Bacon
More quotes by Langston Hughes
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed - Let it be that great strong land of love Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme That any man be crushed by one above.
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Good morning, Revolution: You're the very best friend I ever had. We gonna pal around together from now on
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Wear it Like a banner For the proud? Not like a shroud.
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The depression brought everybody down a peg or two. And the Negroes had but few pegs to fall.
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Your explanation depresses me, I said. Your nonsense depresses me, said Simple.
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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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Money and art are far apart.
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I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen when company comes, but I laugh, and eat well, and grow strong.
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This is the mountain standing in the way of any true Negro art in America - this urge within the race toward whiteness, the desire to pour racial individuality into the mold of American standardization, and to be as little Negro and as much American as possible.
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Rest at pale evening... A tall slim tree... Night coming tenderly Black like me
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Whiskey just naturally likes me but beer likes me better.
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I loved my friend He went away from me There's nothing more to say The poem ends, Soft as it began- I loved my friend.
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A world I dream where black or white, Whatever race you be, Will share the bounties of the Earth And every man is free.
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Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.
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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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Harriet Tubman lived to see the harvest.
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A dream deferred is a dream denied.
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Blues had the pulse beat of the people who keep on going.
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There's a certain amount of traveling in a dream deferred.
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I am the American heartbreak- The rock on which Freedom Stumped its toe.
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