W.E.B. Du Bois: “I was not for a moment daunted,--although, of course, there were some days of secret tears--rather I was spurred to…”

With other black boys the strife was not so fiercely sunny: their youth shrunk into tasteless sycophancy, or into silent hatred of the pale world about them and mocking distrust of everything white; or wasted itself in a bitter cry, Why…

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.

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

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