“It is hard for the old slave holding spirit to die. But die it must.”

If my cup won’t hold but a pint and yourn holds a quart, wouldn’t ye be mean not to let me have my little half-measure full?

What we give to the poor, we lend to the Lord.

We do as much, we eat as much, we want as much.

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.

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.

Throughout life, from childhood, from school until we die, we are taught to compare ourselves with another; yet when I compare myself with another I am destroying myself.

Some of our most exquisite murders have been domestic, performed with tenderness in simple, homey places like the kitchen table.

A photograph is not only an image (as a painting is an image), an interpretation of the real; it is also a trace, something directly stenciled off the real, like a footprint or a death mask.

Without the threat of death there’s no reason to live.

I am a real ham. I love an audience. I work better with an audience. I am dead, in fact, without one.

You know what I’m going to have on my gravestone? ‘She did it the hard way.’

The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.

The Son of God died; it is by all means to be believed because it is absurd. And he was buried and rose again; the fact is certain, because it is impossible.