Angie Thomas Quotes

Look, you can't be worried about what folks think... There will always be someone with something to say, but it doesn't mean you gotta listen.

And that's the problem,' I say. 'Real macaroni and cheese doesn't come from a box, babe. It eventually comes from an oven with a crust bubbling on top.'
'Amen.' Seven holds his fist to me, and I bump it.
'Ohhh,' Chris says. 'You mean the kind with breadcrumbs?'
'What?' DeVante yells, and Seven goes, 'Breadcrumbs?'
'Nah,' I say. 'I mean there's like a crust of cheese on top. We gotta get you to a soul food restaurant, babe.'
'This fool said breadcrumbs.' DeVante sounds seriously offended. 'Breadcrumbs.

Don't fall for that trap. That's what they want. If you don't wanna speak out, that's up to you, but don't let it be because you're scared of them. Who do I tell you that you have to fear?" "Nobody but God.

When you fight, you put yourself out there, not caring who you hurt or if you'll get hurt.

Daddy once told me there's a rage passed down to every black man from his ancestors, born the moment they couldn't stop the slave masters from hurting their families. Daddy also said there's nothing more dangerous than when that rage is activated.

I look at the stars again. Daddy says he named me Starr because I was his light in the darkness. I need some light in my own darkness right about now.

My apologies, see, I forgot my manners.
I get on the mic 'cause it's my life. You show off for girls and cameras.
You a pop star, not a rapper. A Vanilla Ice or a Hammer.
Y'all hear this crap he dumping out? Somebody get him a Pamper.
And a crown for me. The best have heard about me.
You can only spell "brilliant" by first spelling Bri.
You see, naturally, I do my shit with perfection.
Better call a bodyguard 'cause you gon' need some protection,
And on this here election, the people crown a new leader.
You didn't see this coming, and your ghostwriters didn't either.
I came here to ether. I'm sorry to do this to you.
This is no longer a battle, it's your funeral, boo. I'm murdering you.
On my corner they call me coroner, I'm warning ya.
Tell the truth, this dude is borin' ya.
You confused like a foreigner. I'll explain with ease:
You're just a casualty in the reality of the madness of Bri.
No fallacies, I spit maladies, causin' fatalities,
And do it casually, damaging rappers without bandaging.
Imagining managing my own label, my own salary.
And actually, factually, there's no MC that's as bad as me.
Milez? That's cute. But it don't make me cower.
I move at light speed, you stuck at per hour.
You spit like a lisp. I spit like a high power.
Bri's the future, and you Today like Matt Lauer.
You coward. But you're a G? It ain't convincing to me.
You talk ab

I've always had this theory that God is a sitcom writer who loves to put me in ridiculous situations.

Sometimes she's my personal Yoda. If Yoda was a woman and had a gold grill. Unfortunately, she doesn't know who Yoda is.

My two worlds just collided. Surprisingly, everything's all right.

Unarmed and dangerous, but America, you made us, only time we famous is when we die and you blame us.

We ain't gotta live there to change things, baby. We just gotta give a damn...

Once you've seen how broken someone is it's like seeing them naked - you can't look at them the same anymore.

A hairbrush is not a gun.

It would be easy to quit if it was just about me.

Open your mouth," he says. I open it, and his face scrunches up. "Ill. We gotta get you a whole bottle of mouthwash. 'Bout to raise the dead with that breath."
I laugh with tears in my eyes. Like I said, Daddy's talented that way.

If bravery is a medical condition, everybody's misdiagnosed me.

people like us in situations like this become hashtags, but they rarely get justice. I think we all wait for that one time though, that one time when it ends right. Maybe

I've seen it happen over and over again: a black person gets killed just for being black, and all hell breaks loose. I've Tweeted RIP hashtags, reblogged pictures on Tumblr, and signed every petition out there. I always said that if I saw it happen to somebody, I would have the loudest voice, making sure the world knew what went down.
Now I am that person, and I'm too afraid to speak.

All these flavors out here, and you choose to be salty" -Sonny

I can't change where I come from or what I've been through, so why should I be ashamed of what makes me, me?

...I'd rather see her as my hero than as somebody else's villain.

I'm starting to wonder why were friends."
"Well, Munch, you have to decide if the relationship is worth salvaging. Make a list of the good stuff, then make a list of the bad stuff. If one outweighs the other, then you know what you gotta do. Trust me, that method hasn't failed me yet.

..."She'll be a'ight." It's a prayer more than a prophecy.

You got folks like Brenda, who think they need them to survive, and then you got the Khalils, who think they need to see them to survive. The Brendas can't get jobs unless they're clean, and they can't pay for rehab unless they got jobs. When the Khalils get arrested for selling drugs, they either spend most of their life in prison, another billion-dollar industry, or they have a hard time getting a real job and probably start selling drugs again. That's the hate they're giving us, baby, a system designed against us. That's Thug Life' (170)

That's what we call our goal, the come up.

His son lost everything because he was trying to do his job and protect himself. His life matters too, you know?"
I cannot right now. I can't. I stand up or otherwise I will say or do something really stupid. Like punch her.
...
"Are you serious right now? Hailey asks. "What's wrong with saying his life matters too?"
"His life always matters more!" My voice is gruff, and my throat is tight. "That's the problem!

It's like a 'Fragile' sticker's on my forehead, and instead of taking a chance and saying something that might break me, they'd rather say nothing at all. But the silence is worst.

What? I better ask before y'all have me sleeping in the house with a murderer, waking up dead!"
What in the . . . "You can't wake up dead," I say.
"Li'l girl, you know what I mean!" She moves from the doorway. "I'll be waking up in Jesus's face, trying to figure out what happened!"
"Like you going to heaven," Daddy mumbles.

Let be real: We're black kids from one of the worst neighborhoods in the city. All it takes is one of us messing up, and suddenly all of us messed up.

Brave doesn't mean you're not scared, Starr," she says. "It means you go on even though you're scared. And you're doing that." She

At an early age I learned that people make mistakes, and you have to decide if their mistakes are bigger than your love for them.

What's the point of having a voice if you're gonna be silent in those moments you shouldn't be?

A nightmare that's a memory. Jay really did leave me and Trey at our grandparents' house. She couldn't take care of us and her drug habit, too. That's when I learned that when people die, they sometimes take the living with them.

I saw her in the park a few months later, looking more like a red-eyed, scaly-skinned dragon than my mommy. I started calling her Jay after that - there was no way she was my mom anymore. It became my own habit that was hard to break. Still is.

All these folks I've never met became gods over my life. Now I gotta take the power back.

Besties before testes.

But I realize that being real ain't got anything to do with where you live.

But you just choose because that's where you want to be. Not because you were trying to do somebody else's job. You hear me?

I can't breathe like I'm drowning in the tears I refuse to shed.

I was floating after my battle, for real. That feeling when the crowd cheered for me is probably what getting high is like, and I'm addicted.

God gave you a brain. You don't need theirs.

It's that time between day and night when the sky looks like it's on fire and mosquitoes are on the hunt.

How he could sell the very stuff that took his momma from him? Did he realize that he was taking somebody else's momma from them? Did

Crying doesn't make you weak, Bri, and even if it did, there's nothing wrong with that. Admitting that you're weak is one of the strongest things you can do" -Trey

Once upon a time there was a hazel-eyed boy with dimples. I called him Khalil. The world called him a thug.
He lived, but not nearly long enough, and for the rest of my life I'll remember how he died.
Fairy tale? No. But I'm not giving up on a better ending.

I suddenly remember how different I am from most of the kids here. Nobody would have to drag me or my brothers to the Bahamas; we'd swim there if we could. For us, a family vacation is staying at a local hotel with a swimming pool for a weekend.

More than that, I remember the guy who spends almost every night on the phone with me talking about nothing and everything. The one who loves to make me smile. Yeah, he pisses me off sometimes, and I'm sure I piss him off, but we mean something. We actually mean a lot.

Who said talking isn't doing something?' she says. It's more productive than silence.

Folks kill me, thinking they know what I think.

I shouldn't have come to this party.

Spring has decided to go through an identity crisis and get chilly on me.

See, that's why I hate it when somebody dies. People do stuff they wouldn't usually do.

Man, get outta here! Tupac was the truth."
"Yeah, twenty years ago."
"Nah, even now. Like, check this." He points at me, which means he's about to go into one of his Khalil philosophical moments. "'Pac said Thug Life stood for 'The Hate U Give Little Infants Fucks Everybody."
I raise my eyebrows. "What?"
"Listen! The Hate U - the letter U - Give Little Infants Fucks Everybody. T-H-U-G L-I-F-E. Meaning what society give us as youth, it bites them in the ass when we wild out. Get it?"
"Damn. Yeah.

One of my biggest influences as a writer is J. K. Rowling. I grew up with Harry Potter. One thing I absolutely loved was how every single person in Harry's world was so three-dimensional - it was as if each one was the main character in his or her own story and was just making a guest appearance in Harry's story. I strive to do that as a writer. I want every side character to be the main character of his or her own story.

I hope none of them ask about my spring break. They went to Taipei, the Bahamas, Harry Potter World. I stayed in the hood and saw a cop kill my friend.

You can destroy wood and brick, but you can't destroy a movement.

And I know, I'm sitting here next to my white best friend but it's almost as if I giving Khalil, Daddy, Seven, and every other black guy in my life a big, loud "fuck you" by having a white boyfriend.

She rubs my back and speaks in hushed tones that tell lies.
'It's all right, baby. It's all right.

What is Tumblr anyway? Is it like Facebook?"
"No, and you're forbidden to get one. No parents allowed. You guys already took over Facebook.

You'd be surprised at how many of us want justice in this case," says Uncle Carlos. "But of course, classic Maverick. Every cop is automatically a bad cop.

Occasionally she goes "Mmm" at some line the same way my grandma does during a sermon. Poetry's Mrs. Murray's religion.

People say misery loves company, but I think it's like that with anger too.

We want freedom,'" I say. "'We want the power to determine the destiny of our black and oppressed communities.'" "Say

Never let yourself drown while trying to save somebody that don't want to be saved.

Do it. Hell, get the song taken down if you want. But you'll never silence me. I got too goddamn much to say.

Funny. Slave masters thought they were making a difference in black people's lives too. Saving them from their "wild African ways." Same shit, different century. I wish people like them would stop thinking that people like me need saving. One-Fifteen

That's the problem. We let people say stuff, and they say it so much that it becomes okay to them and normal for us. What's the point of having a voice if you're gonna be silent in those moments you shouldn't be? "Maya?

You have to decide if the relationship is worth salvaging. Make a list of the good stuff, then made a list of the bad stuff. If one outweighs the other, then you know what you gotta do. Trust me, that method hasn't failed me yet. . . . What if the good doesn't outweigh the bad? . . . Then let her go. And if you keep her in your life and she keeps doing the bad, let her go.

But it's kinda like saying one side of the Death Star is safer than the other. It's still the goddamn Death Star.

The neighborhood doesn't feel nearly as safe. Not that the Garden was ever a utopia, hell no, but before I only worried about GDs and Crowns. Now I gotta worry about the cops too? Yeah, people get killed around here, and nah, it's not always by the police, but Jay says this was like having a stranger come in your house, steal one of your kids, and blame you for it because your family was dysfunctional, while the whole world judges you for being upset.

He got a tan over break. I used to tell him he was so pale he looked like a marshmallow. He hated that I compared him to food. I told him that's what he got for calling me caramel. It shut him up.

I told you guys my grandparents visited, and it was their first time celebrating Thanksgiving. Hailey asked if we ate a cat. Because we're Chinese." Ho-ly

I don't have to wait around for her to change. I can let go.

High school ain't the end or the beginning. It ain't even in the middle. You 'bout to do big things, whether they see it or not. I see it. Everybody last night saw it. Long as you see it, that's all that matters.

Be roses that grow in the concrete

That might be the problem. A lot of the good stuff is from the past. The Jonas Brothers, High School Musical, our shared grief. Our friendship is based on memories. What do we have now?

Jay's a people person. I'm more of a "yes, people exist, but that doesn't mean I need to talk to them" person.

Holy shit. Who the fuck complains about going to Harry Potter World? Or Butter Beer? Or wands?

They haven't won. But you're so lost that you've lost" -Jay

I can't explain the look in her eyes, but it knows me better than I know myself. It wraps me up and warms me from the inside out.

WebMD calls it a stage of grief - anger. But I doubt I'll ever get to the other stages. This one slices me into millions of pieces. Every time I'm whole and back to normal, something happens to tear me apart, and I'm forced to start all over again.
The rain lets up. The devil stops beating his wife, but I beat the dashboard, punching it over and over, numb to the pain of it. I wanna be numb to the pain of all this.

Ever since, I don't have to decide which Starr I have to be with him. He likes both. Well, the parts I've shown him. Some things I can't reveal, like Natasha. Once you've seen how broken someone is it's like seeing them naked - you can't look at them the same anymore. I

empathy is more powerful than sympathy

It's also about Oscar.
Aiyana.
Trayvon.
Rekia.
Michael.
Eric.
Tamir.
John.
Ezell.
Sandra.
Freddie.
Alton.
Philando.
It's even about that little boy in 1955 who nobody recognized at first - Emmett.

I follow Grandma toward the front of the sanctuary. She and Granddaddy have a spot on the second row that's theirs. See, the first row is for folks who wanna show off. The second row is for folks who wanna show off but wanna act like they're subtler about it.

When you're a kid in a one-bedroom in the projects, rich is the best thing anybody can be.

People need to get their space opera life right.

Her name just HAD to be Karen,' Sonny says. 'Bet she puts raisins in her potato salad.' I smirk, and we cross our arms over our chests. Wakanda forever.

I've taught myself to speak with two different voices and only say certain things around certain people. I've mastered it.

Good days don't last forever though.

Every single time I get sent to her, she asks me questions that sound like they came from some "How to Talk to Statistical Black Children Who Come to Your Office Often" handbook.

How is your home life? (None of your business.)

Have you witnessed any traumatic events lately, such as shootings? (Just because I live in the "ghetto" doesn't mean I dodge bullets every day.)

Are you struggling to come to terms with your father's murder? (It was twelve years ago. I barely remember him or it.)

Are you struggling to come to terms with your mother's addiction? (She's been clean for eight years. She's only addicted to soap operas these days.)

What's good with you, homegirl, nah'mean? (Okay, she hasn't said that, but give her time.)

Your voices matter, your dreams matter, your lives matter. Be the roses that grow in the concrete.

Why don't they shoot that nigga Voldemort?

I never know which Starr I should be. I can use some slang, but not too much slang, some attitude, but not too much attitude, so I'm not a "sassy black girl." I have to watch what I say and how I say it, but I can't sound "white." Shit

Besides, is it really mine if I'm not being myself?

And I think you're brilliant, talented, courageous, beautiful. You're my miracle. But you're the only one who can say who you are with authority. So, who are you?

Khalil, that night, and that cop. It's about way more than that though. It's about Seven. Sekani. Kenya. DeVante. It's also about Oscar. Aiyana. Trayvon. Rekia. Michael. Eric. Tamir. John. Ezell. Sandra. Freddie. Alton. Philando. It's even about that little boy in 1955 who nobody recognized at first--Emmett. The messed-up part? There are so many more. Yet I think it'll change one day. How? I don't know. When? I definitely don't know. Why? Because there will alway be someone ready to fight. Maybe it's my turn.

This will sound mean, but just because Khalil's not living doesn't mean you stop living.

DeVante. Khalil. Neither one of them thought they had much of a choice. If I were them, I'm not sure I'd make a much better one. Guess that makes me a thug too.