Only Those Who Hate The Negro See

My Poems Are Like A Dagger Sprouting Flowers From The Hilt; My Poetry Is Like A Fountain Sprinkling Streams Of Coral Water.

My Poems Please The Brave: My Poems, Short And Sincere, Have The Force Of Steel Which Forges Swords.

Perhaps The Enemies Of Liberty Are Such Only Because They Judge It By Its Loud Voice.

The Brave Forget. It Is Those Who Fought Less Bravely, Or Those Who Fought Without Justice And Live In Fear Of Their Victory, Who Forget The Least.

If I Survive, I Will Spend My Whole Life At The Oven Door Seeing That No One Is Denied Bread And, So As To Give A Lesson Of Charity, Especially Those Who Did Not Bring Flour.