W.E.B. Du Bois: “To me Jubilee Hall seemed ever made of the songs themselves, and its bricks were red with the blood and dust of toil.”

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.

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…

Yet even then the hard ruthless rape of the land began to tell.

So the Cotton Kingdom still lives; the world still bows beneath her sceptre.