Frederick Douglass: “Hereditary bondmen! know ye not Who would be free, themselves mast strike the blow?”

Treason had shot its poisonous roots deeper, and had spread its death-dealing branches further than any northern calculation had covered.

The friendless and hungry boy, in his extremest need, found himself in the strong protecting arms of his mother.

I looked into this kitchen with peculiar interest, and remembered that it was there I last saw my mother.

That the mother was a slave was enough for its deadly purpose.