I would hang every human being who possesses a drop of rebel blood in their veins.

No, I have not a drop of what they call white blood in my veins. My father was a full blooded Negro, and my mother was a full blooded Chippewa.

The patriot blood of my father was warm in my veins.

What is happening to me happens to all fruits that grow ripe.
It is the honey in my veins that makes my blood thicker, and my soul quieter.

I think the balloons should hang from the ceiling and drop down.

I have seen the movement of the sinews of the sky, And the blood coursing in the veins of the moon.