Best 3497 quotes in «black quotes» category

I've been 40 years discovering that the queen of all colors was black.

I've let it slide because you're new at this, but the sub doesn't get to demand to be fucked.

I've learned that the hands that made the light created the darkness, and that no one is good without a good measure of bad.

I've learned that I'd rather wait for you than be with any other woman when you're all I can think about.

I’ve never been to a funeral until today. I see dazzling arrangements of red, yellow, and purple flowers with long, green stems. I see a stained-glass window with a white dove, a yellow sun, a blue sky. I see a gold cross, standing tall, shiny, brilliant. And I see black. Black dresses. Black pants. Black shoes. Black bibles. Black is my favorite color. Jackson asked me about it one time. “Ava, why don’t you like pink? Or yellow? Or blue?” ”I love black,” I said. ”It suits me.” ”I suit you,” he said. I’m not so sure I love black anymore. And then, beyond the flowers, beneath the stained-glass window, beside the cross, I see the white casket. I see red, burning love disappear forever. As we pull away, my eyes stay glued to the casket. It’s proof that sometimes life does not go on. I look around. If tears could bring him back, there’d be enough to bring him back a hundred times. That’s not what I’m thinking. I’m thinking, I hate good-byes. It’s like I was a garden salad with a light vinaigrette, and Jackson was a platter of seafood Cajun pasta. Alone, we were good. Together, we were fantastic. Memories might keep him alive. But they might kill me.

I've wanted to ask my detractors which part of that phrase matters to them the most -- is it "angry" or "black" or "woman"?

I want to be a guileless rook to discolor the blackness of all crafty human hearts

I want to introduce my readers to people they may never have met, take them places they may never have visited, and present them with situations they may never have encountered.

I want you to be my black vulture:forever monogamous!

Little girl," Cain begins, moving in close and speaking deliberately. "I know exactly what I want, but as long as you insist on continuing this charade, I will not claim you as mine again until you beg to hear those words from me." I stare at him, stunned at how the same cocksure attitude that floods my mind with contempt floods my body with excitement as he leans back, a satisfied smirk on his face. "I don't beg," I hiss. "Not yet," is all he says.

Little girl, you could wrap my cock in duct tape, and I'll still make you see God.

Looked from different aspects hate just cause more problems it doesn't solve. I hate dogs, I hate black people, I hate yellow people, I hate this person, I hate my father, I hate my mother. And in the end what happens?? It gets even more worse, what are you planning better life or a worse life - that's my question?!

Melanin is an incomparable beauty. From the lightest to the darkest skin tone, Black women and Black girls are exquisite beauty in every shade. Yes, Black females have that special something that just can’t be ignored. We are Melanin Queens, beautifully created! Respect the complexion.

Looking up at that starry sky gave him the creeps: it was too big, too black. It was all too possible to imagine it turning blood-red, all too possible to imagine a Face forming in lines of fire.

Me and my insatiable curiosity. If there's any justice in the world, I was a very good cat in a past life.

My African roots made me what I am today. They’re the reason I’m from the Dominican Republic. They’re the reason I exist at all. To these roots I owe everything.

Meradinis! Turtle Island! It was a little corner of chaos! This was the scene the speeding black ship had left behind three days ago, fleeing in humiliating shame, those three days a constant running battle. For three days the accursed Imperial ship Indomitable had followed, firing on them at every opportunity. Death or imprisonment now awaited those who called themselves Corsairs – and though this death was now more certain rather than just a possibility, Sona Kilroy, or “The Hammer” as he was called by his men, was not prepared to give up his freedom so easily. Piracy was his life and he’d known no other. He was tough and cruel, a despicable man, a case in point when academics quoted the barbarism by which the Corsairs had made themselves known and feared across the star systems of the peaceful Terran Empire.

Never stop depending on God.

My inspiration for writing music is like Don McLean did when he did "American Pie" or "Vincent". Lorraine Hansberry with "A Raisin in the Sun". Like Shakespeare when he does his thing, like deep stories, raw human needs. I'm trying to think of a good analogy. It's like, you've got the Vietnam War, and because you had reporters showing us pictures of the war at home, that's what made the war end, or that shit would have lasted longer. If no one knew what was going on we would have thought they were just dying valiantly in some beautiful way. But because we saw the horror, that's what made us stop the war. So I thought, that's what I'm going to do as an artist, as a rapper. I'm gonna show the most graphic details of what I see in my community and hopefully they'll stop it quick. I've seen all of that-- the crack babies, what we had to go through, losing everything, being poor, and getting beat down. All of that. Being the person I am, I said no no no no. I'm changing this.

Names are powerful and are prophecies of the future. The name you are called is a sign of what you are and what you would become.

Nobody love a black girl. Not even herself

Not at all," persisted Chalmers, unaware that Shea was trying to shush him. "The people of the country have agreed to call magic 'white' when practised for lawful ends by duly authorized agents of the governing authority, and 'black' when practised by unauthorized persons for criminal ends. That is not to say that the principles of the science — or art — are not the same in either event. You should confine such terms as 'black' and 'white' to the objects for which the magic is performed, and not apply it to the science itself, which like all branches of knowledge is morally neutral —" "But," protested Belphebe, "is't not that the spell used to, let us say, kidnap a worthy citizen be different from that used to trap a malefactor?" "Verbally but not structurally," Chalmers went on. After some minutes of wrangling, Chalmers held up the bone of his drumstick. "I think I can, for instance, conjure the parrot back on this bone — or at least fetch another parrot in place of the one we ate. Will you concede, young lady, that that is a harmless manifestation of the art?" "Aye, for the now," said the girl. "Though I know you schoolmen; say 'I admit this; I concede that,' are ere long one finds oneself conceded into a noose." "Therefore it would be 'white' magic. But suppose I desired the parrot for some — uh — illegal purpose —" "What manner of crime for ensample, good sir?" asked Belphebe. "I — uh — can't think just now. Assume that I did. The spell would be the same in either case —" "Ah, but would it?" cried Belphebe. "Let me see you conjure a brace of parrots, one fair, one foul; then truly I'll concede." Chalmers frowned. "Harold, what would be a legal purpose for which to conjure a parrot?" Shea shrugged. "If you really want an answer, no purpose would be as legal as any, unless there's something in gamelaws. Personally I think it's the silliest damned argument —

None of us are just black or white, or never wrong and always right. No one. No one exists without polarities. Everybody has good and bad forces working with them, against them, and within them.

No offense, Charles, but they’ll probably shoot you just for being black.

Nothing is ever black and white, Nila. You should know that bu now. Its all how you survive the grey." -Kes

Oh, hey, kettle, I’m pot and wow, you’re black.” - Owen

Nowadays, a simple faulty brake light traffic stop, can get a black person killed. It's better to fix the broken light bulb, then having to face and cooperate with a senseless police officer.

One day blacks and whites will come together like the keys of a piano, and be as beautiful as the it makes

[O]ur revolt was as much against the traditional black leadership structure as it was against segregation and discrimination.

One day you’re going to get arrested, and when you do, don’t call me. I’ll tell the police to lock you up just to teach you a lesson.” Because there were some black parents who’d actually do that, not pay their kid’s bail, not hire their kid a lawyer—the ultimate tough love. But it doesn’t always work, because you’re giving the kid tough love when maybe he just needs love. You’re trying to teach him a lesson, and now that lesson is the rest of his life.

One researcher, J.P. Gump found that the most profound shame results from the destruction of your subjectivity when "what you need, what you desire, and what you feel are of complete and utter insignificance.

... paint in blue and black...sometimes gray - the colors of night - occasionally I surprise you with a mustard yellow, but then, I am a poet ...

She took down the framed manuscript from the kitchen wall. It was Kendra's prized possession, and part of her felt guilty for what she planned, but it had to be done. She carefully removed the parchment from its frame, then searched through the piles of translations and notes on the kitchen table. Finally she found the Secret Scroll on the chair where Kendra had been the night before. She carried both manuscripts upstairs and set them on her desk. Next she gathered paints and brushes and sat down. She studied the artwork on the Secret Scroll, then slowly began copying its rich patterns of gold, red, and blue onto Kendra's old manuscript. It was late afternoon when she finished. She studied her work. She had managed to copy the exotic birds and animals hidden in the foliage on the borders, and even the detailed picture of the goddess locking the jaws of hell. Her work was rough, but at a distance it would fool Toby or any of the Regulators, especially since they were afraid to touch it. Satisfied, she went to her closet. She searched through her clothes until she found the strapless top with the slit in the front. She slipped it over her head, then grabbed a silky black skirt and stepped into it. She carried her stiletto boots to the bed and tugged them on. At last she drew black liquid eyeliner over her top lid, added green glitter shadow, rolled thick mascara on her lashes, and brushed her hair. She added gloss to her lips and rubbed sparkle lotion over her arms and chest. Then she remembered the dragon stencils. Soon, she had a sinuous dragon adorning her thigh between the bottom of her skirt and the top of her boots. She liked the look. She turned in front of the full-length mirror behind the bathroom door. "Dynamite," she whispered. Her reflection thrilled her. She looked vamped-out and mystical. At once, she sensed the fierce power of the dragon rising in her. She felt like an invincible goddess-warrior.

People won't admit it, they're too busy grabbing to see that the lights have fused. They can't see the darkness and the spider-face beyond and the great web of it all. That there's always this if you scratch at the surface of happiness and goodness. The black and the black and the black.

She never answered. She couldn’t. All she could do was stare, reaching toward him with her gaze alone, pulling him to drown in the sorrow of those depthless black pools.

She wore black, the color of nuns and witches, the color of the loneliest corners of outer space, where gravity prevents all light from escaping, the name given to boxes tucked into airplanes, the ones that explain the disaster.

Pro-Black posers get paid to expose us & try to rip-out our roots and pollute our culture.

Sarah Lynn strides out of the stairwell. Lawrence watches her go. The door slushes shut behind her, and he turns to me with a tightened jaw. I want to tell him: No, no, you've got it all wrong. I don't care if you kiss a white girl. I don't care if you love a white girl. I just wish you'd chosen a white girl worthy of your love. Lawrence's Adam's apple jerks up and down, and I realize that in addition to whatever else he's feeling, he's scared. He's in love with the darling of the school, Sarah Lynn Lancaster, ad he's afriad I'll expose his secret. I give a tiny shake of my head, wanting him to know he has nothing to fear, not from me.

So black is my heart for it is buried in the fiery chasm of untameable passion. It beats in the dark recesses of unquenchable thirst for love and desire from which there is no return...

Since stepping reluctantly into public life, I’ve been held up as the most powerful woman in the world and taken down as an “angry black woman.” I’ve wanted to ask my detractors which part of that phrase matters to them the most—is it “angry” or “black” or “woman”?

Skin the colour of chestnuts

Sometimes I'm a black. Not everyone realizes blackness has to be conferred upon you again and again. It's like getting your nails done. Or being pantsed. People assume I'm cool.

Some people hurt themselves with a blade and others do it with poisonous thoughts

Some kids are black, or brown - some kids are red, and others white. Kids come in all different colors, shapes and styles - beautiful and bright!

Some people do not really hate aging; they merely love the colour black.

...somewhere, on some subterranean level, her darkness and his may have connected.

Stop killing our children. Have it all. My civil liberties. My basic human rights. And though I will continue my struggle to refrain from shouting how much of an ingenious coward you are, you win.

Tease me like that again, and I'll put you over my knee," Cain threatens, and my poor impulse control kicks into overdrive. "I'm not teasing.

The Black female is assaulted in her tender years by all those common forces of nature at the same time that she is caught in the tripartite crossfire of masculine prejudice, white illogical hate and Black lack of power. The fact that the adult American Negro female emerges a formidable character is often met with amazement, distaste and even belligerence. It is seldom accepted as an inevitable outcome of the struggle won by survivors and deserves respect if not enthusiastic acceptance.

Thank you for undusting my true colors; or color: black... Oh, how I missed the darkness!