My back is thick with scars for protesting my freedom.

I can speak of slavery only so far as it came under my own observation - only so far as I have known and experienced it in my own person.

My sufferings I can compare to nothing else than the burning agonies of hell!

Suffice it to say, during the whole long day I came not to the conclusion, even once, that the southern slave, fed, clothed, whipped and protected by his master, is happier than the free colored citizen of the North. To that conclusion I have never since arrived.

My back is thick with scars for protesting my freedom.

There have been hours in my unhappy life, many of them, when the contemplation of death as the end of earthly sorrow - of the grave as a resting place for the tired and worn out body - has been pleasant to dwell upon.

Is everything right because the law allows it?