“Empty man. Walk thru shadows. All lives the same. They give you wishes. The old people at the window. Dead man. Rised, come gory to their side. Wish to be lovely, to be some other self. Even here, without you. Some other soul. Than the filth I feel. Have in me. Guilt, like something of God's. Some separate suffering self.” DespairGuiltEmptinessAbjection Book:New American Story Source: New American Story
“The shabbiness, even embarrassment, of Hazel Scott playing 'concert boogie woogie' before thousands of white middle-class music lovers, who all assumed that this music was Miss Scott's invention, is finally no more hideous than the spectacle of an urban, college-trained Negro musician pretending, perhaps in all sincerity, that he has the same field of emotional reference as his great-grandfather. the Mississippi slave” HistorySocietyIndustryMulticulturalBluesTragicomedy Book:Blues People: Negro Music in White America Source: Blues People: Negro Music in White America