Only A Man Who Is Ashamed Of

At The Bottom Of The Social Heap Is The Black Man In The Big-city Ghetto. He Lives Night And Day With The Rats And The Cockroaches And Drowns Himself With Alcohol And Anesthetizes Himself With Dope, To Try And Forget Where And What He Is. That Negro Has Given Up All Hope. He's The Hardest One For Us To Reach, Because He's The Deepest In The Mud. But When You Get Him, You've Got The Best Kind Of Muslim. I Look Upon Myself As A Prime Example Of This Category - As Graphic An Example As You Could Find Of The Salvation Of The Black Man.

Any Time Uncle Sam, With All His Machinery For Warfare, Is Held To A Draw By Some Rice Eaters, He's Lost The Battle.

[my Half-sister] Ella And I Always Were Much Closer As Basic Types; We're Dominant People, And [my Other Half-sister] Mary Has Always Been Mild And Quiet, Almost Shy.

No Religion Will Ever Make Me Forget The Condition Of Our People In This Country...no God, No Religion, No Nothing Will Make Me Forget It Until It Stops, Until It's Elimitnated. I Want To Make That Point Clear.

[negro] Should Realize That He Is Living In A War Zone, And He Is At War With An Enemy That Is As Vicious And Criminal And Inhuman As Any War-making Country Has Ever Been.