We black men seem the sole oasis of simple faith and reverence in a dusty desert of dollars and smartness. – W.E.B. DuBois
The shadow of a mighty Negro past flits through the tale of Ethiopia the shadowy and of the Egypt the Sphinx. Throughout history, the powers of single blacks flash here and there like falling stars, and die sometimes before the world has rightly gauged their brightness. – W.E.B. DuBois
To be a poor man is hard, but to be a poor race in a land of dollars is the very bottom of hardships. – W.E.B. DuBois
He brewed his tea in a blue china pot, poured it into a chipped white cup with forget-me-nots on the handle, and dropped in a dollop of honey and cream. He sat by the window, cup in hand, watching the first snow fall. “I am,” he sighed deeply, “contented as a clam. I am a most happy man.” – Ethel Pochocki, Wildflower Tea, 1993