A crackpot theory. Instead of saying labor's exploited, as Marx did, Kelso says capital's exploited. It's worse than Marx. It's Marx stood on its head.
The worst injury is feeling you don't belong so much to you.
Because white men can’t police their imaginations, black men are dying.
I want to believe that in any relational moment a person understands that the other person in front of them is just another human being.
You can’t put the past behind you. It’s buried in you; it’s turned your flesh into its own cupboard. Not everything remembered is useful but it all comes from the world to be stored in you.
Poetry has no investment in anything besides openness. It's not arguing a point. It's creating an environment.
So you're just moving along and suddenly you get this moment that breaks your ability to continue, and yet you continue. I wanted those kinds of moments. And initially people would say, "I don't think I have any. " Their initial reaction was to render invisible those moments weaved into a kind of everydayness.
If you are carrying strong feelings about something that happened in your past, they may hinder your ability to live in the present.
The neo-conservative critics of leftist critics of mass culture ridicule the protest against Bach as background music in the kitchen, against Plato and Hegel, Shelley and Baudelaire, Marx and Freud in the drugstore. Instead, they insist on recognition of the fact that the classics have left the mausoleum and come to life again, that people are just so much more educated. True, but coming to life as classics, they come to life as other than themselves; they are deprived of their antagonistic force, of the estrangement which was the very dimension of their truth.
And what it depends on, of course, is whether the story itself is worth the ethical compromise it requires and whether the competition is onto the story.
In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity.