If growing up is painful for the Southern Black girl, being aware of her displacement is the rust on the razor that threatens the throat.

More from Maya Angelou

• I answer the question, 'Death, where is thy sting?' with here in my heart and mind and memories.
• Life loves to be taken by the lapel and told, 'I am with you kid. Let's go!'
• Most plain girls are virtuous because of the scarcity of opportunity to be otherwise.
• There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside of you.
• You may write me down in history / With your bitter, twisted lies, / You may trod me in the very dirt / But still, like dust, I'll rise.
• Just like moons and like suns, / With the certainty of tides, / Just like hopes springing high, / Still I'll rise.