Passion can’t be planned; only felt.

Either conquer the night, or become one of its conquests.

The way black women say "girl" can be magical. Frankly, I have no solid beliefs about the survival of consciousness after physical death. But if it's going to happen I know what I want to see after my trek toward the light. I want to see a black woman who will smile and say, "Girl....

This Saturday? As in tomorrow Saturday? We have to give lectures in twelve hours? We're not prepared for that! I can't just pull a cyber-crimes lecture out of my ass!" He could, but it was the principle of the thing.

How irresistibly difficult it is to crave in something you can not indulge in deeply.

This is breaking my heart. I love this country with a passion, but since the Tampa and 9/11 we've gone from a position of international respect in relation to race and human rights to a laughing stock.