I Was Born A Slave; But I

The Slave Child Had No Thought For The Morrow; But There Came That Blight, Which Too Surely Waits On Every Human Being Born To Be A Chattel.

The Slave Girl Is Reared In An Atmosphere Of Licentiousness And Fear.

The Secrets Of Slavery Are Concealed Like Those Of The Inquisition.

Notwithstanding My Grandmother's Long And Faithful Service To Her Owners, Not One Of Her Children Escaped The Auction Block. These God-breathing Machines Are No More, In The Sight Of Their Masters, Than The Cotton They Plant, Or The Horses They Tend.

There Are No Bonds So Strong As Those Which Are Formed By Suffering Together