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Fiona Apple

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Conversation once colored by esteem
Became dialogue as a diagram of a play for blood.
Took a vacation, my palate got clean.
Now I could taste your agenda
While you're spitting your cud.
--
Not About Love

 
Fiona Apple

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[T]he intelligence and ability of a colored person are in pretty direct proportion to the amount of white blood he has, and … most of the positions of leadership, influence, and prominence in the Negro race are held not by real Negroes but by Mulattoes, many of whom have very little Negro blood.

 
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If you feel irritated by the absurd remarks of two people whose conversation you happen to overhear, you should imagine that you are listening to a dialogue of two fools in a comedy.

 
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I am gall, I am heartburn. God's most deep decree
Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me;
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