W.E.B. Du Bois: “The rules of the labor union are designed, not simply to raise wages, but to guard against any likeness between artisan…”

The shades of the prison-house closed round about us all: walls strait and stubborn to the whitest, but relentlessly narrow, tall, and unscalable to sons of night who must plod darkly on in resignation, or beat unavailing palms against the…

All this segregation by color is largely independent of that natural clustering by social grades common to all communities.

It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others, of measuring one’s soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity.

He would not bleach his Negro soul in a flood of white Americanism, for he knows that Negro blood has a message for the world.