Yes, I heard my people singing!-in the glow of parlor coal-stove and on summer porches sweet with lilac air, from choir loft and Sunday morning pews-and my soul was filled with their harmonies.

I am being tried for fighting for the right of my people, who are still second-class citizens in this United States of America.

The faces and the tactics of the leaders may change every four years, or two, or one, but the people go on forever.

Artists are the gate keepers of truth. We are civilization’s radical voice.

You know I am an actor, and I have medals for diction.

I feel closer to my country than ever. There is no longer a feeling of lonesome isolation. Instead-peace. I return without fearing prejudice that once bothered me . . . for I know that people practice cruel bigotry in their ignorance, not maliciously

The intolerance of the few, or the risk of it, carries the day against the wider humanity of the many.