“I am not going to die, I’m going home like a shooting star.”

Christ came from God and a woman. Man had nothing to do with him.

Christ came from God and a woman. Man had nothing to do with him.

This is beautiful indeed; the colored people have given this to the head of the government, and that government once sanctioned laws that would not permit its people to learn enough to enable them to read this book.

Where there is so much racket there must be something out of kilter.

I feel safe even in the midst of my enemies; for the truth is powerful and will prevail.

The Spirit calls me, and I must go.

If women want any rights more than they’s got, why don’t they just take them, and not be talking about it?

I am glad to see that men are getting their rights, but I want women to get theirs, and while the water is stirring, I will step into the pool.

And ar’n’t I a woman?

Those are the same stars, and that is the same moon, that look down upon your brothers and sisters, and which they see as they look up to them, though they are ever so far away from us, and each other.

Then I will speak upon the ashes.

It is the mind that makes the body.

Then that little man in black there, he says women can’t have as much rights as men, ’cause Christ wasn’t a woman! Where did your Christ come from? Where did Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothing to do with Him.

Truth is powerful and it prevails.

Obliged to you for hearing me, and now old Sojourner ain’t got nothing more to say.

Truth burns up error.

Illness and problems are the specialties of life. But the death of a child is a cause of mental agony which can be overcome if one concedes this world to be a stage or stadium wherein praiseworthy are those who are not proud of their achievement and those who do not cry at their defeat.

My dear child, if you desire to be free from the cycle of birth and death, then abandon the objects of sense gratification as poison. Drink instead the nectar of forbearance, upright conduct, mercy, cleanliness and truth.

I’ve told you the four thunderstorms – disappointment, frustration, unfairness and isolation. You cannot avoid them, as like the monsoon they will come into your life at regular intervals. You just need to keep the raincoat handy to not let the spark die.

Nothing wilts faster than laurels that have been rested upon.

First our pleasures die – and then our hopes, and then our fears – and when these are dead, the debt is due dust claims dust – and we die too.

I pant, I sink, I tremble, I expire!

When you’re dead, you don’t breathe, you don’t see, you don’t feel, you don’t love.

I like going to areas where the murder rate is high and dropping it.