In The World Through Which I Travel,

O My Body, Make Of Me Always A Man Who Questions!

Every Colonized People-in Other Words, Every People In Whose Soul An Inferiority Complex Has Been Created By The Death And Burial Of Its Local Cultural Originality-finds Itself Face To Face With The Language Of The Civilizing Nation; That Is, With The Culture Of The Mother Country. The Colonized Is Elevated Above His Jungle Status In Proportion To His Adoption Of The Mother Country's Cultural Standards.

For The Black Man There Is Only One Destiny. And It Is White.

However Painful It May Be For Me To Accept This Conclusion, I Am Obliged To State It: For The Black Man There Is Only One Destiny. And It Is White.

I Am Black; I Am In Total Fusion With The World, In Sympathetic Affinity With The Earth, Losing My Id In The Heart Of The Cosmos -- And The White Man, However Intelligent He May Be, Is Incapable Of Understanding Louis Armstrong Or Songs From The Congo. I Am Black, Not Because Of A Curse, But Because My Skin Has Been Able To Capture All The Cosmic Effluvia. I Am Truly A Drop Of Sun Under The Earth.