“Virtue knows no color line.”

The doors of churches, hotels, concert halls and reading rooms are alike closed against the Negro as a man, but every place is open to him as a servant.

The emergency no longer existing, lynching gradually disappeared from the West.

The South resented giving the Afro-American his freedom, the ballot box and the Civil Rights Law.

The mob spirit has grown with the increasing intelligence of the Afro-American.

I am only a mouthpiece through which to tell the story of lynching and I have told it so often that I know it by heart. I do not have to embellish; it makes its own way.

A Winchester rifle should have a place of honor in every black home.

Brave men do not gather by thousands to torture and murder a single individual, so gagged and bound he cannot make even feeble resistance or defense.

In fact, for all kinds of offenses – and, for no offenses – from murders to misdemeanors, men and women are put to death without judge or jury; so that, although the political excuse was no longer necessary, the wholesale murder of human beings went on just the same.

The way to right wrongs is to turn the light of truth upon them.

Those who commit the murders write the reports.

The only times an Afro-American who was assaulted got away has been when he had a gun and used it in self-defense.

Somebody must show that the Afro-American race is more sinned against than sinning, and it seems to have fallen upon me to do so.

Our country’s national crime is lynching. It is not the creature of an hour, the sudden outburst of uncontrolled fury, or the unspeakable brutality of an insane mob.

When the white man who is always the aggressor knows he runs as great a risk of biting the dust every time his Afro-American victim does, he will have greater respect for Afro-American life.

The appeal to the white man’s pocket has ever been more effectual than all the appeals ever made to his conscience.

I came home every Friday afternoon, riding the six miles on the back of a big mule. I spent Saturday and Sunday washing and ironing and cooking for the children and went back to my country school on Sunday afternoon.

When your whole world is shaken from all the risks we have taken, Dance with me, dance with me into the colors of the dusk.

I love pointy nails! A cute way to add a pop of color to your nails is to make a V-shape at the ends of them in a pastel color.

I once heard some idiot on the radio saying that all great art has suffering as its dominant theme, and that the greatest artists are only able to create because they suffer immensely in their own lives. What a bunch of bullshit.

I kind of do the drawing with the painting in mind, but it’s very hard to guess at a size or a color and all the colors around it and what it will really look like.

I loved something about the space buns and the weird neon colors. I couldn’t just wear that in real life because people would look weirdly at me, but maybe at a party or something.

Color is crucial in painting, but it is very hard to talk about.

Bright colours in the west, giant butterflies dancing as night crept like a cripple toward the east.

A good organization is like a box of crayons. You need different colors of the spectrum, but all the crayons should fit in the box.