It is from the blues that all that may be called American music…

Every race and every nation should be judged by the best it has been able to produce, not by the worst.

The glory of the day was in her face, The beauty of the night was in her eyes.

We have come over a way that with tears has been watered, We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered.

The colored people of this country know and understand the white people better than the white people know and understand them.

Lift every voice and sing Till earth and heaven ring, Ring with the harmonies of Liberty. Let our rejoicing rise high as the listening skies; Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.

And God stepped out on space, And He looked around and said, "I'm lonely— I'll make me a world."