The rich rob the poor and the poor rob one another.

If my cup won't hold but a pint and yourn holds a quart, wouldn't ye be mean not to let me have my little half-measure full?

Obliged to you for hearing me, and now old Sojourner ain't got nothing more to say.

I am for keeping the thing going while things are stirring. Because if we wait till it is still, it will take a great while to get it going again.

Then I will speak upon the ashes.

The rich rob the poor and the poor rob one another.

And ain't I a woman? I have borne thirteen children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother's grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain't I a woman?