Lord, Make Us Mindful Of The Little

I Believe That There Are Human Stocks With Whom It Is Physically Unwise To Intermarry, But To Think That These Stocks Are All Colored Or That There Are No Such White Stocks Is Unscientific And False.

When In This World A Man Comes Forward With A Thought, A Deed, A Vision, We Ask Not How Does He Look, But What Is His Message?. . . The World Still Wants To Ask That A Woman Primarily Be Pretty. . . .

It Is The Stars, It Is The Ancient Stars, It Is The Young And Everlasting Stars!

Why Did God Make Me An Outcast And A Stranger In Mine Own House? 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 Stone, Or Steadily, Half Hopelessly, Watch The Streak Of Blue Above.

A Little Less Complaint And Whining, And A Little More Dogged Work And Manly Striving, Would Do Us More Credit Than A Thousand Civil Rights Bills.