And what blame to them if they love a white man, tyrant though he be, rather than a fellow-slave?
If the men of our own race will claim us, let them prove themselves worthy of us! Let them rise, exterminate their tyrants, or, failing that, show that they know how to die.

Till then, those who are the masters of their bodies will be the masters of our hearts.

If they crouch before the white like brutes, what wonder if we look up to him as to a god?
Woman must worship, or be wretched.

Do I not know it?
Have I not had my dream--too beautiful for earth?
Was there not one whom you knew, to hear whom call me slave would have been rapture; to whom I would have answered on my knees, Master, I have no will but yours! But that is past--past.

One happiness alone was possible for a slave, and even that they tore from me; and now I have no thought, no purpose, save revenge.
"These good people bid me forgive my enemies.