Mk Asante Quotes

Love is learning the song in someone's heart and singing it to them when they forget.

Now I see why reading was illegal for black people during slavery. I discover that I think in words. The more words I know, the more things I can think about....Reading was illegal because if you limit someone's vocab, you limit their thoughts. They can't even think of freedom because they don't have the language to.

Love is learning the song in someone's heart and singing it to them when they forget, forget who they are

I write-down to speak-up.

Decisions lead to options, options to choices, choices to freedom. We all design out own reality, write our own script, build our own house...or prison...or coffin.

He thought of leaving for good every time he heard the long, mournful whistle of the train. He told me it's called wanderlust--that need to go, to bounce--and that all the men in my family have it.

When you make an observation, you have an obligation.

I don't know how to deal with yet another pain. I want to scream while I dance and dance while I scream. I want to forget that pain can be so intimate.

I am the mountain and the sculptor, losing myself, finding myself, revealing what was there all along.

Malo has the best chance to make it, not because he is exempt from mischief and even mayhem but because he is a listener and observer.

Me, I’m cool with all the races. My favorite color is green.

The books show the world not just as it is but as it could be, should be. They connect me to everything that has ever happened and to everyone who has ever lived.

There's a war between two wolves inside everybody. One is anger, jealousy, greed, resentment, inferiority, lies and ego. The other's good. It's love, peace, beauty, happiness, truth, hope, joy, humility, kindness, and empathy. "Who wins...?" "The one you feed".

My dad gets mad pissed at us for lighting fireworks on the Fourth. Not ’cause they can turn our fingers into knobs but because he doesn’t fuck with July 4th or Christmas or Easter or Presidents’ Day or any other holiday. Too white for Pops—white Christmas, all white on Easter, dead white presidents. He comes outside. “Whose independence are you celebrating?” He pulls out a book and reads while the M-80 smoke swirls over our heads: “ ‘What, to the American slave, is your Fourth of July? I answer: a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sounds of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciation of tyrants, brass-fronted impudence; your shouts of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanksgivings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are, to him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy—a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages.’ ” Roach

I can’t dwell on this now but I want to go home and sleep for seven days and seven nights. I don’t know how to deal with yet another pain. I want to scream while I dance and dance while I scream. I want to forget that pain can be so intimate. I want to travel beside Daudi on his collar, whispering in his ear, soothing his shoulders, kissing his cheeks, and telling him, “I love you.” If

The more I read, the more I want to read.

Did you know that love causes the same chemical reaction as insanity?

Love is learning the song in someone's heart and singing it to them when they forget.