Maids Must Be Wives, And

A Sacred Burden Is This Life Ye Bear, Look On It, Lift It, Bear It Solemnly, Stand Up And Walk Beneath It Steadfastly; Fail Not For Sorrow, Falter Not For Sin, But Onward, Upward, Till The Goal Ye Win.

Your Theory Of Partial Immortality Is Abhorrent To Me. I Would Rather Disbelieve In The Immortality Of My Own Soul Than Suppose The Boon Given To Me Was Withheld From Any Of My Fellow Creatures.

[on Disagreeing With Her Husband About His Slave-holding:] I Cannot Give My Conscience Into The Keeping Of Another Human Being Or Submit The Actions Dictated By My Conscience To Their Will.

Place, Time, Life, Death, Earth, Heaven Are Divisions And Distinctions We Make, Like The Imaginary Lines We Trace Upon The Surface Of The Globe.

The Southern Newspapers, With Their Advertisements Of Negro Sales And Personal Descriptions Of Fugitive Slaves, Supply Details Of Misery That It Would Be Difficult For Imagination To Exceed. Scorn, Derision, Insult, Menace - The Handcuff, The Last - The Tearing Away Of Children From Parents, Of Husbands From Wives - The Weary Trudging In Droves Along The Common Highways, The Labor Of Body, The Despair Of Mind, The Sickness Of Heart - These Are The Realities Which Belong To The System, And Form The Rule, Rather That The Exception, In The Slave's Experience.