Our Progress In Degeneracy Appears To Me

All I Ask For The Negro Is That If You Do Not Like Him, Let Him Alone. If God Gave Him But Little, That Little Let Him Enjoy.

Confused And Stunned, Like A Duck Hit On The Head.

Character Is Like A Tree, And Reputation Is Like Its Shadow.

You May Burn My Body To Ashes, And Scatter Them To The Winds Of Heaven; You May Drag My Soul Down To The Regions Of Darkness And Despair To Be Tormented Forever; But You Will Never Get Me To Support A Measure Which I Believe To Be Wrong, Although By Doing So I May Accomplish That Which I Believe To Be Right.

Towering Genius Distains A Beaten Path.