George Sand: I am not full of virtues and noble qualities. I love. That is all. But I love strongly, exclusively, steadfastly.
Furious Styles: I want y’all to look at that sign. See what it says? “Cash for your home.” You know what that is?
Ricky Baker: It’s a billboard.
Tre Styles: Billboard.
Furious Styles: What are y’all, Amos and Andy? Are you Steppin’ and he’s Fetchit? I’m talking about the message. What it stands for. It’s called “gentrification.” It’s what happens when property value of a certain area is brought down. You listening?
Tre Styles: Yeah.
Furious Styles: They bring the property value down. They can buy the land cheaper. Then they move the people out, raise the value and sell it at a profit. What we need to do is keep everything in our neighborhood, everything, black. Black-owned with black money. Just like the Jews, the Italians, the Mexicans and the Koreans do.
Susan Lowenstein: How do you feel?
Tom Wingo: I, uh, feel okay. I mean, I thought I’d be on the floor, but I feel surprisingly alright.
Susan Lowenstein: Are you sure?
Tom Wingo: Oh, yeah. I mean, uh, well, I’m relieved. The artery’s clean, the ghost’s out of the closet, and I’m—
Susan Lowenstein: You’ve really learned how to cover your pain, haven’t you? You’ve done that all your life. That 13-year-old boy is still in a lot of pain.
Tom Wingo: Don’t do this to me Lowenstein, don’t do this to me.
Susan Lowenstein: I can feel your pain, Tom, I feel it. Let yourself feel it. It takes courage to feel the pain, Tom.
Eli Peazant: What’re we supposed to remember, Nana? How, at one time, were we able to protect those we loved? How, in Africa world, we were kings and queens and built great big cities?
Nana Peazant: Eli, I’m trying to learn you how to touch your own spirit. I’m fighting for my life and I’m fighting for your’n. Look in my face! I’m trying to give you something to take North with you, along with all your great big dreams! Count on those old Africans, Eli, they come to you when you least expect ’em. They hug you up quick and soft as the warm sweet wind. Let them old souls come into you, hardy-like. Let them touch you with the hand of time, let them feed your head with wisdom that came from this day in time. Cuz when you leave this island, Eli Peazant, you ain’t goin’ to no land of milk and honey.