It was quite a process to narrow more than 400 columns down to 80. I write weekly, though, and I don't always write about President [Barack] Obama, so that was the easy elimination.

There's no great, white bigot; there's just about 200 million little white bigots out there.

History belongs to she who holds the pen...If we don't tell our stories, they won't be told.

When public policy is directed toward urban spaces, it is directed toward people who sit at the margins.

Black child poverty is higher. As I write in the epilogue, "Yes we can. No he didn't. President [Barack] Obama didn't push black people backward, but he missed the opportunity to move us forward."

Frankly, I'd love to see a multiparty system, like we have in some of our European countries. But I'm not sure how to get there.

If people don't know about you, that's not on them, it's on you.

George W. Bush is evil. He is a terrorist. He is evil. He is arrogant. And he is out of control.

President [Barack] Obama's pick of Arne Duncan as Secretary of Education was abysmal.

If past behavior is any indication, Donald Trump's behavior would not be acceptable.

We have a very large military community - veterans and others - who basically do believe in the militarism.

There is nothing prettier in thewhole wide world than a girlin lovewith every breath she takes.

But on the question of who you're writing for, don't be eager to please.

Going gray is like ejaculating: you know it can happen prematurely, but when it does it comes as a total shock.

Once upon a time, I thought that politics was the name we gave to our higher instincts. That was before Margaret Thatcher, who came to power when I was 11 years old.

As to blood—ah, blood, the whole subject fascinates me. I do like that as well, warm and dripping, when I am thirsty. And I am often thirsty.

Maybe one day, I would write a story about arguing in public, and those would come in handy in some way.

Life is a disease; and the only difference between on man and another is the stage of the disease at which he lives.

It's time to find someplace where I feel like it's home.

Here at this far lost end of the continent, where the trail wagons had stopped and the people with them.

Word which the finger of God has written on the brow of every man — hope!