quote by Zora Neale Hurston

If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.

— Zora Neale Hurston

Bashful Harlem quotations

The police can go to downtown Harlem and pick up a kid with a joint in the streets. But they can't go into the elegant apartments and get a stockbroker who's sniffing cocaine.

It doesn't do good to open doors for someone who doesn't have the price to get in. If he has the price, he may not need the laws. There is no law saying the Negro has to live in Harlem or Watts.

I bought a house in the Hollywood Hills and brought my grandmother from Harlem to live in it with me.

You must understand as a kid of color in those days, the Harlem Globetrotters were like being movie stars.

Living at the YMCA in Harlem dramatically broadened my view of the world.

Harlem is a stage. It's like its own planet, from the way we dress to the swag in the way we walk and talk.

Melting pot Harlem-Harlem of honey and chocolate and caramel and rum and vinegar and lemon and lime and gall. Dusky dream Harlem rumbling into a nightmare tunnel where the subway from the Bronx keeps right on downtown.

You know why Madison Avenue advertising has never done well in Harlem? We're the only ones who know what it means to be Brand X.

All over Harlem, Negro boys and girls are growing into stunted maturity, trying desperately to find a place to stand; and the wonder is not that so many are ruined but that so many survive.

I pass for a hypersensitive, reclusive neurotic, which I may well be, but I hope the year won't come when my anxieties and fatigue will destroy my love of this life, of all the things that inspire me--a line of music, a face in a Vermeer portrait, a character in an opera, or a model born in Harlem.

I was born in Harlem, raised in the South Bronx, went to public school, got out of public college, went into the Army, and then I just stuck with it.

Michael Ralph brilliantly plays the street prophet, a West Indian who foreshadows the Harlem riot.

I havent seen a professional player come out of New York in over 20 years since my brother Patrick came out. Blake spent a few years in Harlem, but he moved to Connecticut when he was a kid.

I want people to take pride in Spanish Harlem.

These are people that everyone in the community could relate to... people who mean something special to us.

My grandfather taught me generosity. He sold snow cones in Harlem. I went with him at 5 and he let me hand out the change and snow cones. I learned a lot in the couple of years that we did that.

I got Sonny up to Harlem, and we started street playin' in New York.

We did that for three or four years and survived. We brought it back to the streets again.

We had the skirts with the slits up the side, sort of tough, sort of Spanish Harlem cool, but sweet too.

We both grew up in the atmosphere of struggle, both Ossie and me, .

.. I come out of Harlem and Harlem comes out of me - wailing police sirens and street parties, rumors and landlords, that cultural, spiritual scene. And Ossie came up from the South, where struggle and dying were part of everyday life. That is who we are.

As a Latino growing up in Spanish harlem, it's not easy trying not to be hot-headed.

In Harlem, I got all my black friends.

But when I go downtown, I got black, white, Asian, Indian friends. There's no borders, no barriers.

Any kid that feels like they don't have any kind of future, whether they're on a street corner in Harlem or in a little town in Kansas where nothing happens, it's all out there for them. They can do whatever they dream or wish or see on television, or read about in the papers.

I grew up in Harlem. My grandmother was one of the best cooks around, but the first thing she did on Sunday mornings when she started cooking a daylong meal was to take a big block of lard from the back of the refrigerator and throw it into the pan. I know how Hispanics buy their food, and it is not always nutritious.

Despite everything that Harlem did to our generation, I think it gave something to a few. It gave them a strength that couldn't be obtained anywhere else.

I don't have to really be in the 60s.

Every time I hail a cab in New York, and they pass me by and pick up the white person, then I get a dose of it. Or when they don't want to take you to Harlem. I grew up with that.

For me, growing up in Harlem and then migrating down to SoHo and the Lower East Side and chillin' down there and making that my stomping ground... That was a big thing, because I'm from Harlem, and downtown is more artsy and also more open-minded. So I got the best of both worlds.

In Harlem, black was white. You had rights that could not be denied you; you had privileges, protected by law. And you had money. Everybody in Harlem had money. It was a land of plenty.

I majored in directing. However, I did spend some time at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture in Harlem, so I am somewhat well-versed in African Studies.

They [the police] learned something from them Harlem riots.

They used to beat your head right in public, but now they only beat it after they get you down to the station house.

It's about stories. If I can tell the story to America, whether it's Riesling or a boxer from Harlem, it will sell. I know on my gravestone it's going to be, 'Storyteller.'

Im grateful for my health, glad Im making people laugh, glad my wife still likes me after a lotta years, grateful my daughter is growing, glad I dont take myself too seriously, glad L.A. has Astro Burger, grateful to be coming home to Harlem soon. Its a gratitude list. It works.

I think probably one of the coolest things was when I went to play basketball at Rucker Park in Harlem. First of all, who would think that Larry the Cable Guy would go to Harlem to play basketball? And I was received like a rock star. It was amazing! There were people everywhere. There were guys walking by yelling, Git r done!

Hugs are great, but - better than drugs? Come on.

Let me put it to you this way: I never drove to Harlem at 4 a.m. to get somebody to hug me.

I never think about themes. I let the music create itself. I like it to be a potpourri of all kinds of sounds, all kinds of colors, something for everybody, from the farmer in Ireland to the lady who scrubs toilets in Harlem.

The Harlem of my books was never meant to be real;

I never called it real; I just wanted to take it away from the white man if only in my books.

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