W.E.B. Du Bois: “How heavy a journey for weary feet! what wings must Atalanta have to flit over all this hollow and hill, through sour…”

I had thereafter no desire to tear down that veil, to creep through; I held all beyond it in common contempt, and lived above it in a region of blue sky and great wandering shadows.

The ballot, which before he had looked upon as a visible sign of freedom, he now regarded as the chief means of gaining and perfecting the liberty with which war had partially endowed him.

This waste of double aims, this seeking to satisfy two unreconciled ideals, has wrought sad havoc with the courage and faith and deeds of ten thousand thousand people,—has sent them often wooing false gods and invoking false means of…

Fully ninety-four per cent have struggled for land and failed, and half of them sit in hopeless serfdom.