It Is One Of The Blessings Of

They Bowed Down To Him Rather, Because He Was All Of These Things, And Then Again He Was All Of These Things Because The Town Bowed Down.

The Sun, The Hero Of Every Day, The Impersonal Old Man That Beams As Brightly On Death As On Birth, Came Up Every Morning.

If It Was So Honorable And Glorious To Be Black, Why Was It The Yellow-skinned People Among Us Had So Much Prestige?

We Must Learn To Be Honest With Ourselves, And Know Our Shortcomings. We Will Acquire Cohesion But We Will Pay Dearly For Being A Slow Pupil.

I Know That Nothing Is Destructible; Things Merely Change Forms.