"Simpson I figured it out! I’m the color of creek sand and you’s the color of garden dirt! And the Indians, they’s the color of red clay! Doesn’t that make you wanna sing out! Everybody’s made out of dust. And God didn’t make you black to punish you for nothing. He didn’t make nobody nothing to punish them for nothing! He made everybody the color they is on account of that just happen to be the color He was standing on."
"You know the thing about hope, how it sneaks up behind you when you’re sure everything’s in the toilet, and starts whispering to you that maybe, just maybe, things could turn around [well, they do and they will]."