W.E.B. Du Bois: “Yet for that man's crime this man lieth maimed and murdered, his wife naked to shame, his children to poverty and evil.”

The Nation has not yet found peace from its sins; the freedman has not yet found in freedom his promised land.

Away with the black man’s ballot, by force or fraud,—and behold the suicide of a race!

This, then, is the end of his striving: to be a co-worker in the kingdom of culture, to escape both death and isolation, to husband and use his best powers and his latent genius.

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…