“Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon of hope to millions of slaves, who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity. But one hundred years later, the colored America is still not free. One hundred years later, the life of the colored American is still sadly crippled by the manacle of segregation and the chains of discrimination.”
“They hadn’t travelled far when someone squawked and cursed. This was followed by uneasy laughter. Something flew past Yukin, its wings pushing it through the air like a swift arrow.”
“No further sound. Nothing. Even the faint creak and lap of ship and sea was suspended. Then the vessel came alive. Footsteps pounded up from the fo’c’sle. There were shouts and oaths as men stumbled over each other.”
“A dozen canoes left the island the next morning, some of them enormous vessels capable of carrying a hundred people. All the canoes had slaves on board. Lyapo tried to count them, hiding his hands between his knees as the ticked off the numbers.”
“Certainly, of course. I’m very particular in letting them have everything that comes convenient,—anything that doesn’t put one at all out of the way, you know. Mammy can make up her sleep, some time or other; there’s no difficulty about that. She’s the sleepiest concern that ever I saw; sewing, standing, or sitting, that creature will go to sleep, and sleep anywhere and everywhere. No danger but Mammy gets sleep enough. But this treating servants as if they were exotic flowers, or china vases, is really ridiculous,”