W.E.B. Du Bois: “And yet follow those boys: they are not lazy; to-morrow morning they’ll be up with the sun; they work hard when they do…”

Hear my cry, O God the Reader; vouchsafe that this my book fall not still-born into the world wilderness.

The words that are left to us are not without interest, and, cleared of evident dross, they conceal much of real poetry and meaning beneath conventional theology and unmeaning rhapsody.

To me Jubilee Hall seemed ever made of the songs themselves, and its bricks were red with the blood and dust of toil.

Such an assumption is the arrogance of peoples irreverent toward Time and ignorant of the deeds of men.