Nancy Cunard quotes

This thin edge of December / Wears out meagrely in the / Cold muds, rains, intolerable nauseas of the street.

It was necessary to make this book — and I think in this manner, an Anthology of some 150 voices of both races — for recording of the struggles and achievements, the persecutions and the revolts against them, of the Negro people.

How come, white man, the rest of the world is to be re-formed in your dreary and decadent image?

We found a poem, a beauty, by a poet—so much so that it must be printed by itself.

Something like 60,000 men are living here, on bare ground, without shelter in the cold and the damp.

beseech you open fund immediately in Guardian for possibly much as half million starving Spanish refugees pouring in. Situation catastrophic.

not being one who wants to go through life entirely alone in every sense and at every hour, I have loathed my life, all of it, and spit on it.