If There Is No Struggle, There Is

It Was A Glorious Resurrection, From The Tomb Of Slavery, To The Heaven Of Slavery. My Long-crushed Spirit Rose, Cowardice Departed, Bold Defiance Took Its Place; And I Now Resolved That, However Long I Might Remain A Slave In Form, The Day Had Passed Forever When I Could Be A Slave In Fact.

A Man's Character Always Takes Its Hue, More Or Less, From The Form And Color Of Things About Him.

We Are Americans, Speaking The Same Language, Adopting The Same Customs, Holding The Same General Opinions... And Shall Rise And Fall With Americans.

From My Earliest Recollection, I Date The Entertainment Of A Deep Conviction That Slavery Would Not Always Be Able To Hold Me Within Its Foul Embrace; And In The Darkest Hours Of My Career In Slavery, This Living Word Of Faith And Spirit Of Hope Departed Not From Me, But Remained Like Ministering Angels To Cheer Me Through The Gloom. This Good Spirit Was From God, And To Him I Offer Thanksgiving And Praise.

One By One I Have Seen Obstacles Removed, Errors Corrected, Prejudices Softened, Proscriptions Relinquished, And My People Advancing In All The Elements That Go To Make Up The Sum Of The General Welfare. And I Remember That God Reigns In Eternity, And That Whatever Delays, Whatever Disappointments And Discouragements May Come, Truth, Justice, Liberty And Humanity Will Ultimately Prevail.