Andrew Young
Andrew Young
Andrew Jackson Young, Jr.is an American politician, diplomat, activist, and pastor from Georgia. He has served as a Congressman from Georgia's 5th congressional district, the United States Ambassador to the United Nations, and Mayor of Atlanta. He served as President of the National Council of Churches USA, was a member of the Southern Christian Leadership Conferenceduring the Civil Rights Movement, and was a supporter and friend of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPolitician
Date of Birth12 March 1932
CityNew Orleans, LA
CountryUnited States of America
Martin Luther King was talking about racism, war and poverty. I think we have made progress enormous progress in racism and war, but we have made little or no progress in poverty. And it's because the economy has gotten more and more complex as we have globalized.
My daddy was determined to make me a dentist and a baseball player. And I loved my daddy but I wasted four years of college trying to do what he wanted me to do, and not what I felt I wanted to do.
I always quoted to my parents from Kahlil Gibran, "The Prophet." Your children are not your children. They come through you, but not from you. You can give them your love, but not your thoughts, for they come from a land that you cannot enter, not even in your wildest dreams.
If all I get is a little controversy for speaking the truth, if I did less, I would not be worth living.
Bill [Clinton] is every bit as black as Barack. He's probably gone with more black women than Barack.
Martin Luther King said America had given a bad check to black people.
Once the Xerox copier was invented, private diplomacy died. There's no such thing as secrecy. It's just a question of whether it's leaked or revealed openly.
I have committed my life to helping the poor, and I believe that if more companies followed Wal-Mart's lead in providing opportunity and savings to those who need it most, more Americans battling poverty would realize the American dream.
The unsung heroes of the civil rights movement were always the wives and the mothers.
When the long, varnished buds of beech Point out beyond their reach, And tanned by summer suns Leaves of bright bryony turn bronze, And gossamer floats bright and wet From trees that are their own sunset, Spring, summer, autumn I come here, And what is there to fear? And yet I never lose the feeling That someone else behind is stealing Or else in front has disappeared; Though nothing I have seen or heard, Makes me still walk beneath these boughs With cautious step as in a haunted house.
There is a happy land, Far, far away, Where Saints in glory stand, Bright, bright as day.