Don't Cry for Me

“No one should diminish themselves to prove their love.”

“Hurt is worse than anger, you know. Anger dwells in the head, then fades. Hurt lingers in the soul. It rearranges your feelings without your permission. It blinds you.”

“If you get nothing else from this letter, understand that I never knew how to love. I dreamed of it, but I never experienced it. What I knew was pain. So that's what I gave you. I'd never seen a black life free from it, so my job as a father, I assumed, was to prepare your back for the load. I hope that, after you read this, you'll return my pain to me. But you might not. We get used to it, the weight of the pain, and when it threatens to go, we sometimes hold on to it for dear life. But there's no joy while it lingers near.”

“You must learn to uproot unwanted seeds without destroying the entire harvest. This is the son’s lesson. Nurture good sprouts, Isaac. Toss weeds aside and never think of them again. Just remember that sprouts and weeds are planted together, and weeds have a valuable function. They teach you what to avoid, what not to embrace. There is no good planting without them.”

“Children don't carry the weight of history, so their capacity for heavy things might be greater. But few adults believe this, so we pass along only what we think they can bear. Children wonder later why we didn't tell them everything so they could avoid our mistakes.”

“Pride really can kill a man. Actually, it makes him kill himself. He justifies his errors and creates his own righteousness in his mind.”

“Hurt is worse than anger. Anger dwells in the head, then fades. Hurt lingers in the soul. It rearranges your feelings without your permission. It blinds you.”

“Everything we did, whether we were aware or not, we did with white people in mind. Our life's aim was to make them believe we had value and worth, so we spent our nights trying to figure out what they liked, then spent our days trying to do it. We still haven't pleased them, and truth is, we never will.”

“I want readers to reconsider the capacity of our fathers’ hearts. Many of them were handed so little, yet we expected so much.”

“Love doesn't make us perfect; it makes us want to be.”

“Knowledge is a funny thing, Isaac. It informs by exposing. It shows you precisely how much you don’t know.”

“Loneliness can kill you. It makes you think and do strange, unhealthy things.”

“Pride can really kill a man. Actually, it makes him kill himself. He justifies his errors and creates his own righteousness in his mind. Grandma used to say, "There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof is death.”

“Although we were flawed, we were marvelous too.”

“It's not been a horrible life, Isaac. It's just been a lonely one. But that was my own doing. Reading taught me that a man's life is his own responsibility, his own creation. Blaming others is a waster of time. No one can make you happy if you're determined to be miserable. And, for many years, I was.”

“Everything I'd ever loved I'd destroyed. You don't know - I hope you don't know - the feeling of losing everyone you ever loved.”

“Memories reveal who you used to be, what you once thought important, what regrets you cannot shake.”

“First snow fell yesterday. It came easy and unannounced, like a whisper, but once it started, it continued into the night. When I looked out this morning, everything was still, white, and gleaming. I wondered if you were somewhere safe and warm. I wondered if you were thinking about me.”

“Just remember that, although we were flawed, we were marvelous, too.”

“If church folks are right, I'll see him soon and I'll be happy again. If they're wrong, I'll have no peace in eternity. No peace at all.”

“I never did say I love you. That’s the reason I’d called. That’s what I’d promised your mother I’d say.”

“Reconsider the capacity of our fathers’ hearts. Many of them were handed so little, yet we expected so much. They gave more than they had, but less than what we needed.”

“Hurt is hard to forget, especially from a mother. And healing is never easy for black men.”

“You cried all the way to Perry Lake. I spanked you when we arrived and told you to get it together. You hushed, but your misery was obvious. I fished all day long just to torture you. We never went again.”

“If you get nothing else from this letter, understand that I never knew how to love. I dreamed of it, but I never experienced it. What I knew was pain. So that’s what I gave you.”

“You wouldn’t think ideas have geographical context, but they do. We teach certain things because of where we live. We like to think we’re governed by some higher spiritual or philosophical motivation, but really most of our thinking comes from our environment.”

“You don’t know—I hope you don’t know—the feeling of losing everyone you ever loved. You’re left with only your own hurt and regret. All you do is relive mistakes and wish you could undo them. You never can.”

“But Death didn’t rush me. She lingered there, with the scent of sweet perfume and pork-seasoned collard greens.”

“And they might’ve understood, finally, that every son is an eternal blessing. If they’d been allowed to dream.”

“I’m sorry, Rachel.” “I know, I know,” she repeated over and over. “No, I’m not just sorry for myself. I’m sorry for us. For our family, for black people—” “Yeah,” she whispered. “Me, too.”