Janie Looked Down On Him And Felt

I Do Not Share The Gloomy Thought That Negroes In America Are Doomed To Be Stomped Out Bodaciously, Nor Even Shackled To The Bottom Of Things. Of Course Some Of Them Will Be Tromped Out, And Some Will Always Be At The Bottom, Keeping Company With Other Bottom-folks.

Love, I Find, Is Like Singing.

Such As I Am, I Am A Precious Gift.

The North Has No Interest In The Particular Negro, But Talks Of Justice For The Whole. The South Has Not Interest, And Pretends None, In The Mass Of Negroes But Is Very Much Concerned About The Individual.

...she Woke Up In Time To See The Sun Sending Up Spies Ahead Of Him To Mark Out The Road Through The Dark. He Peeped Up Over The Door Sill Of The World And Made A Little Foolishness With Red.