I would rather drudge out my life on a cotton plantation, till the grave opened to give me rest, than to live with an unprincipled master and a jealous mistress.

Give me the ready hand rather than the ready tongue.

Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth.

For years, my master had done his utmost to pollute my mind with foul images, and to destroy the pure principles inculcated by my grandmother, and the good mistress of my childhood.

I would rather live my life as if there is a God and die to find out there isn't, than live as if there isn't and to die to find out that there is.

No pen can give an adequate description of the all-pervading corruption produced by slavery.