W.E.B. Du Bois: “Can it be the end, so long as sits enthroned, even in the souls of those who cry peace, the despising and robbing of…”

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…

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

One ever feels his twoness,—an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.

Many of the worst characteristics of the Negro masses of to-day had their seed in this period of the slave’s ethical growth.