Northern white people love the Negro in a sort of abstract way, as a race; through a sense of justice, charity, and philanthropy, they will liberally assist in his elevation.

And so for a couple of years my life was divided between my music and my school books.

The Southern whites are in many respects a great people. Looked at from a certain point of view, they are picturesque. If one will put oneself in a romantic frame of mind, one can admire their notions of chivalry and bravery and justice.

It’s no disgrace to be black, but it’s often very inconvenient.

The colored people of this country know and understand the white people better than the white people know and understand them.

Nothing great or enduring, especially in music, has ever sprung full-fledged and unprecedented from the brain of any master; the best he gives to the world he gathers from the hearts of the people, and runs it through the alembic of his genius.

O Black and unknown bards of long ago, How came your lips to touch the sacred fire?