“We saw the lightning and that was the guns and then we heard the thunder and that was the big guns; and then we heard the rain falling and that was the blood falling; and when we came to get in the crops, it was dead men that we reaped.”

I can’t die but once.

I said to the Lord, I’m going to hold steady on to you, and I know you will see me through.

I think slavery is the next thing to hell. If a person would send another into bondage, he would, it appears to me, be bad enough to send him into hell if he could.

The good Lord has come down to deliver my people, and I must go and help him.

God’s time is always near. He gave me my strength and he set the North Star in the heavens; He meant I should be free.

I am at peace with God and all mankind.

Marcus Garvey had in their times. We just had a more vulnerable enemy.

Quakers almost as good as colored. They call themselves friends and you can trust them every time.

I have heard their groans and sighs, and seen their tears, and I would give every drop of blood in my veins to free them.

I had reasoned this out in my mind; there was on of two things I had a right to, liberty or death; if I could not have one, I would have the other; for no man should take me alive.

I had crossed the line. I was free; but, there was no one there to welcome me to the land of freedom. I was a stranger in a strange land.

I looked at my hands to see if I was the same person.

Most of those coming from the mainland are very destitute, almost naked.

I started with this idea in my head, “There’s two things I’ve got a right to, death or liberty.

I started with this idea in my head, “There’s two things I’ve got a right to, death or liberty.

Slavery is the next thing to hell.

BLOOD, SWEAT & RESPECT. First two you GIVE. Last one you EARN.

I woke up with the warrior in my blood.

Upon receiving Holy Communion, the Adorable Blood of Jesus Christ really flows in our veins and His Flesh is really blended with ours.

I had all of the love in the world but I could not see it. We are blind when we don’t know how to love the very bones and blood that make us.

Family is not who’s blood is in you, is who you love and who loves you.

The heart has no tears to give,–it drops only blood, bleeding itself away in silence.

Shame bleeds through generation to generation. That is not the legacy I wish for you.

Do you love your idea? Does it feel right on instinct? Are you willing to bleed for it?