Quotes About Prejudice

It's amazing how people can take just one small part of a person and draw massive conclusions.

Sizeism = like racism, only against people who aren't a size two or four.

Last year I kissed this freshman girl at a pool party and she wouldn't get off my nuts for six months. Which is why my policy is now no psychotics, and no freshmen. The freshmen thing is obviously easy to avoid, while the psychotics pose a bit more of a problem. It's not like girls walk around with "I'm crazy" stamped on their chests.

What animal would do this?"he said harshly. "No, little one, animals might scratch you, or bite you, or even rip you apart in hunger or fear, but only a man can crush you inside, in your heart, for no other reason than the colour of tour skin.

Men should be judged, not by their tint of skin, the Gods they serve, the Vintage they drink, nor by the way they fight, or love, or sin, But by the quality of the thought they think.

Men now monopolize the upper levels depriving women of their rightful share of opportunities for incompetence.

As the two young men prowled through the black neighborhood, they were not looking for any black man in particular. Their victim could be young, old, fat, skinny, weak, strong. They didn't care. They weren't afraid. They had a gun. All that mattered was that he was the right color.

The Klansmen and their frenzied followers ran through the silent, deserted streets, carrying clubs and chains. Favorite weapons were "head-knockers," hollowed-out baseball bats that had been filled with molten lead and then sealed back up so they looked like normal athletic equipment.

They were a motley, dispirited underclass that wanted black people held down in part because they needed someone to look down upon, as most of the white world looked down on them.

Two white teenagers, one of them an Eagle Scout, had been looking forward to being part of the motorcade. Upset at the cancellation, they drove into black neighborhoods on a motorcycle carrying a Confederate flag. When they came upon two black boys on bicycles, one of the white youths fired his pistol at thirteen-year-old Virgil Ware and killed him.

But liking someone whose species you dislike is something--worth more than currency on a chit.

Asian men could be socially inept and incompetent and ridiculous, like a Long Duk Dong, or at best unthreatening and slightly buffoonish, like a Jackie Chan. They were not allowed to be angry and articulate and powerful. And possibly right, Mr. Richardson thought uneasily.

People decide what you're like before they even get to know you.

He enjoys the surprise on people's faces when he tells them he's a professor of American history. "Well, I am American," he says when people blink, a barb of defensiveness in his tone. Someone

Now, when Marilyn says this—If she were a white girl—it proves what James has feared all along. That inside, all along, she'd labeled everything. White and not white. That this thing makes all the difference in the world.

People decide what you're like before they even get to know you. They think they know all about you. Except, you're never who they think you are.

James looks up to see Stanley Hewitt leaning though. He doesn't like Stan-a florid ham hock of a man who talks to him loudly and slowly, as if he's hard of hearing, who makes stupid jokes that start 'George Washington, Buffalo Bill, and Spiro Agnew walk into a bar…

American Terror gives an

I dunno," she said. "People decide what you're like before they even get to know you." She eyed him, suddenly fierce. "Kind of like you did with me. They think they know all about you. Except you're never who they think you are.

was the same dirty tint that would be used, for years to come, to justify the sidelong glances at anyone who might seem Chinese, to excuse the refusals of service and shouted slurs and spat-in faces, and later on, the baseball bats, the booted feet.

to uproot some otherness, something hated and feared.

If she were a white girl . . . none of this would ever have happened.

People decide what you're like before they even get to know you." She eyed him suddenly fierce. "Kind of like you did with me. They think they know all about you. Except you're never who they think you are.

My kids are around pit bulls every day. In the '70s they blamed Dobermans, in the '80s they blamed German Shepherds, in the '90s they blamed the Rottweiler. Now they blame the Pit Bull.