There is a raging tiger inside every man whom God put on this earth. Every man worthy of the respect of his children spends his life building inside himself a cage to pen that tiger in.

It is a measure of the Negro's circumstance that, in America, the smallest things usually take him so very long, and that, by the time he wins them, they are no longer little things: they are miracles.

There are things a man must not do even to save a nation.

The faces in New York remind me of people who played a game and lost.

The fates have a way of demanding of a man that he suffer his greatest moments all by himself; being lone seems as often attendant upon reality as being in company is attendant upon the flight from reality.

It is not the least of a martyr's scourges to be canonized by the persons who burned him.

Men very seldom change, try though we will, beneath the shifts of exterior doctrine, our hearts so often remain what they were.