Quotessence
Home / Authors / Langston Hughes
Langston Hughes

Langston Hughes Quotes

Poet

Filter quotes by topic

AllPoetryAfrican AmericansBlacksRacePoemRacismRace RelationsDreamPeopleAmericaIfsBlackKnowsHarlem RenaissancePovertyWorldStillsWhiteDemocracyFall

Famous Langston Hughes Quotes

“God to Hungry Child Hungry child, I didn't make this world for you. You didn't buy any stock in my railroad, You didn't invest in my corporation. Where are your shares in standard oil? I made the world for the rich And the will-be-rich And the have-always-been-rich. Not for you, Hungry child.”

ChildrenGodPoetryWealthPovertyRichPoemHungerCorporationsHungry Children
Book:Good Morning, Revolution: Uncollected Social Protest Writings
Create image

“They will let you have dope Because they are quite willing To drug you or kill you. They will let you have babies Because they are quite willing To pauperize you-- Or use your kids as labor boys For army, air force, or uranium mine. They will let you have alcohol To make you sodden and drunk And foolish. They will gleefully let you Kill your damn self any way you choose With liquor, drugs, or whatever.”

DeathPoetryPoemAlcoholDrugsAfrican AmericansBlacksBabies
Book:Good Morning, Revolution: Uncollected Social Protest Writings
Create image

“-Let America Be America Again- Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free. (America never was America to me.) Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed— Let it be that great strong land of love Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme That any man be crushed by one above. (It never was America to me.) O, let my land be a land where Liberty Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath, But opportunity is real, and life is free, Equality is in the air we breathe. (There's never been equality for me, Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.") Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark? And who are you that draws your veil across the stars? I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart, I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars. I am the red man driven from the land, I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek— And finding only the same old stupid plan Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak. I am the young man, full of strength and hope, Tangled in that ancient endless chain Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land! Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need! Of work the men! Of take the pay! Of owning everything for one's own greed! I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil. I am the worker sold to the machine. I am the Negro, servant to you all. I am the people, humble, hungry, mean— Hungry yet today despite the dream. Beaten yet today—O, Pioneers! I am the man who never got ahead, The poorest worker bartered through the years. Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream In the Old World while still a serf of kings, Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true, That even yet its mighty daring sings In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned That's made America the land it has become. O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas In search of what I meant to be my home— For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore, And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea, And torn from Black Africa's strand I came To build a "homeland of the free." The free? Who said the free? Not me? Surely not me? The millions on relief today? The millions shot down when we strike? The millions who have nothing for our pay? For all the dreams we've dreamed And all the songs we've sung And all the hopes we've held And all the flags we've hung, The millions who have nothing for our pay— Except the dream that's almost dead today. O, let America be America again— The land that never has been yet— And yet must be—the land where every man is free. The land that's mine—the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME— Who made America, Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain, Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain, Must bring back our mighty dream again. Sure, call me any ugly name you choose— The steel of freedom does not stain. From those who live like leeches on the people's lives, We must take back our land again, America! O, yes, I say it plain, America never was America to me, And yet I swear this oath— America will be! Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death, The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies, We, the people, must redeem The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers. The mountains and the endless plain— All, all the stretch of these great green states— And make America again!”

Poem
Book:Let America be America Again and Other Poems
Create image

“Nine Negro boys in Alabama were on trial for their lives when I got back from Cuba and Haiti. The famous Scottsboro "rape" case was in full session. I visited those boys in the death house at Kilby Prison, and I wrote many poems about them. One of those poems was: CHRIST IN ALABAMA Christ is a Nigger, Beaten and black-- O, bare your back. Mary is His Mother-- Mammy of the South, Silence your mouth. God's His Father-- White Master above, Grant us your love. Most holy bastard Of the bleeding mouth: Nigger Christ On the cross of the South.”

PoetryPoemSouthTrialsAfrican AmericansBlacksAlabamaWrongful ConvictionScottsboro Boys
Book:Good Morning, Revolution: Uncollected Social Protest Writings
Create image

“Dream of Freedom There’s a dream in the land With its back against the wall. By muddled names and strange Sometimes the dream is called. There are those who claim This dream for theirs alone— A sin for which, we know They must atone. Unless shared in common Like sunlight and like air, The dream will die for lack Of substance anywhere. The dream knows no frontier or tongue, The dream no class or race. The dream cannot be kept secure In any one locked place. This dream today embattled, With its back against the wall— To save the dream for one, It must be saved for ALL.”

PoetryFreedomPoemAfrican AmericansBlacksSegregationBrown V Board Of Education
Book:Good Morning, Revolution: Uncollected Social Protest Writings
Create image

“The boss's got all he needs, certainly, Eats swell, Owns a lotta houses, Goes vacationin', Breaks strikes, Runs politics, bribes police, Pays off congress, And struts all over the earth-- But me, I ain't never had enough to eat. Me, I ain't never been warm in winter. Me, I ain't never known security-- All my life, been livin' hand to mouth, Hand to mouth.”

PoetryPoemLaborWorkersBossesLabor Relations
Book:Good Morning, Revolution: Uncollected Social Protest Writings
Create image

“Once more The guns roar. Once more The call goes forth for men. Again The war begins. Again False slogans become a bore. Yet no one cries: Enough! No more! Like angry dogs the human race Loves the snarl upon its face. It loves to kill. The pessimist says It always will. That I do not believe. Some day The savage in us will wear away. Some day quite clearly Men will see How clean and happy life can be And how, Like flowers planted in the sun, We, too, can give forth blossoms, Shared by everyone.”

WarHappinessPoetryPeacePoemAngerSavagery
Book:Good Morning, Revolution: Uncollected Social Protest Writings
Create image