The secrets of slavery are concealed like those of the Inquisition.

But to the slave mother New Year's day comes laden with peculiar sorrows. She sits on her cold cabin floor, watching the children who may all be torn from her the next morning and often does she wish that she and they might die before the day dawns.

When they told me my new-born babe was a girl, my heart was heavier than it had ever been before. Slavery is terrible for men; but it is far more terrible for women.

When I was nearly twelve years old, my kind mistress sickened and died.

The war of my life had begun; and though one of God's most powerless creatures, I resolved never to be conquered.

For years, my master had done his utmost to pollute my mind with foul images, and to destroy the pure principles inculcated by my grandmother, and the good mistress of my childhood

No pen can give an adequate description of the all-pervading corruption produced by slavery.