“What is a street? It is where the living weep, where the dead go off in silence to their peace.”

“Go to where the silence is and say something.”

“Oh, sweet it is, where grass is deep
And swifts are overhead,
To lie and watch the clouds, and weep
For friends already dead.”

“In the gutters lies the black man, dead,
And where oil flows blackest, the streets run red,
And there was He who was born and came to be,
Who lived and died without liberty”

“By many a dream of God and man my thoughts in shining flocks were led:
But as I went through Patrick Street the hopes and prophecies were dead.
The hopes and prophecies were dead: they could not blossom where the feet
Walked amid rottenness, or where the brawling shouters stamped the street.”

“Weep not for the dead with a fruitless recalling,
Their soul on the wings of the morning hath fled;
Mourn rather for those whom yet life is enthralling,
Ah! weep for the living—weep not for the dead.”

“There's no time for hatred, only questions. Where is love? Where is happiness? What is life? Where is peace?”

“Care for the living. I'll weep for the dead later. - Perrin Aybara”

“In Sacramento, my brown was not halfway between black and white. On the leafy streets, on the east side of town, where my family lived, where Asians did not live, where Negroes did not live, my family's Mexican shades passed as various.”

“We live in a world of illusions, where the wisest, in silence, witness an infinity of ridiculous actions.”