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

Passion can’t be planned; only felt.

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.

Bound, elbow to elbow, darkness and night entered the dwelling.

Wait!" she cried, and she yanked away from him and gathered her heels and her ruined
purse. She slid the shoes on and straightened her shoulders. "I will go as a lady should," she claimed bravely. "In patent leather heels.