Booker T. Washington

I know that on such occasions there is much that comes to the surface that is superficial and deceptive, but I have had experience enough not to be deceived by mere signs and fleeting enthusiasms.

I never feel so hopeful about the race as I do after being engaged in a series of these meetings.

I have done no work that I really enjoyed more than this, or that I think has accomplished more good.

It has been a matter of deep interest to me to note the number of people who have come to shake hands with me after an address, who say that this is the first time they have ever called a Negro “Mister.

Most people, I think, are able to draw proper conclusions if they are given the facts in an interesting form on which to base them.

The average audience, I have come to believe, wants facts rather than generalities or sermonizing.

To prevent this, I make up my mind, as a rule, that I will try to make my address so interesting, will try to state so many interesting facts one after another, that no one can leave.

When I have an address to deliver, I like to forget all about the rules for the proper use of the English language, and all about rhetoric and that sort of thing, and I like to make the audience forget all about these things, too.

Although there are certain things, such as pauses, breathing, and pitch of voice, that are very important, none of these can take the place of soul in an address.

I do not believe that one should speak unless, deep down in his heart, he feels convinced that he has a message to deliver.

I believe that one always does himself and his audience an injustice when he speaks merely for the sake of speaking.

There is a thread of sympathy and oneness that connects a public speaker with his audience, that is just as strong as though it was something tangible and visible.