Frederick Douglass: “The most of the space of life is behind me, and the sun of my day is nearing the horizon.”

A son of toil himself, he was linked in brotherly sympathy with the sons of toil in every loyal part of the republic.

Treason had shot its poisonous roots deeper, and had spread its death-dealing branches further than any northern calculation had covered.

I looked into this kitchen with peculiar interest, and remembered that it was there I last saw my mother.

The friendless and hungry boy, in his extremest need, found himself in the strong protecting arms of his mother.