“What happens to a dream deferred? / Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?”

“HarlemWhat happens to a dream deferred?Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore-- And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over-- like a syrupy sweet?Maybe it just sags like a heavy load.Or does it explode?”

“Cigars, of course, are made of trail mix, of crushed cashews and Granola and raisins, soaked in maple syrup and dried in the sun. Why not eat one tonight at bedtime?”

“Dreams aren't deferred. They don't just get deferred, either. Someone defers them. You defer them. You make a choice and put off something you dream of doing. "A dream deferred" is a copout, an escape from blame.”

“A dream deferred is a dream denied.”

“I told him that if a man is born in a dry place, then although he may dream of rain, he does not want too much, and that he will not mind the sun that beats down and down.”