1
" The more I read, the more I was led to abhor and detest my enslavers. I could regard them in no other light than a band of successful robbers, who had left their homes, and gone to Africa, and stolen us from our homes, and in a strange land reduced us to slavery. I loathed them as being the meanest as well as the most wicked of men. As I read and contemplated the subject, behold! that very discontentment which Master Hugh had predicted would follow my learning to read had already come, to torment and sting my soul to unutterable anguish. As I writhed under it, I would at times feel that learning to read had been a curse rather than a blessing. It had given me a view of my wretched condition, without the remedy. it opened my eyes to the horrible pit, but to no ladder upon which to get out. in moments of agony, I envied my fellow-slaves for their stupidity. I have often wished myself a beast. I preferred the condition of the meanest reptile to my own. Any thing, no matter what, to get rid of thinking! It was this everlasting thinking of my condition that tormented me. There was no getting rid of it. It was pressed upon me by every object within sight or hearing, animate or inanimate. The silver trump of freedom had roused my soul to eternal wakefulness. Freedom now appeared, to disappear no more forever. It was heard in every sound and seen in every thing. It was ever present to torment me with a sense of my wretched condition. I saw nothing without seeing it, I heard nothing without hearing it, and felt nothing without feeling it. It looked from every star, it smiled in every calm, breathed in every wind, and moved in every storm. "
― Frederick Douglass , Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass
2
" Hugh and Fiona stood off to one side, their hands linked and foreheads touching, saying goodbye in their own quiet way. Finally, we'd all finished with Claire and were ready to go, but no one wanted to disturb them, so we stood watching as Fiona pulled away from Hugh, shook a few seeds from her nest of wild hair, and grew a rose bush heavy with red flowers right where they stood. Hugh's bees rushed to pollinate it, and while they were occupied– as if she'd done it just so they could have a moment to themselves– Fiona embraced him and whispered something in his ear, and Hugh nodded and whispered. "
― Ransom Riggs , Library of Souls (Miss Peregrine's Peculiar Children, #3)
3
" During all that time I didn't see Willie. I didn't see him again until he announced in the Democratic primary in 1930. But it wasn't a primary. It was hell among the yearlings and the Charge of the Light Brigade and Saturday night in the back room of Casey's saloon rolled into one, and when the dust cleared away not a picture still hung on the walls. And there wasn't any Democratic party. There was just Willie, with his hair in his eyes and his shirt sticking to his stomach with sweat. And he had a meat ax in his hand and was screaming for blood. In the background of the picture, under a purplish tumbled sky flecked with sinister white like driven foam, flanking Willie, one on each side, were two figures, Sadie Burke and a tallish, stooped, slow-spoken man with a sad, tanned face and what they call the eyes of a dreamer. The man was Hugh Miller, Harvard Law School, Lafayette Escadrille, Croix de Guerre, clean hands, pure heart, and no political past. He was a fellow who had sat still for years, and then somebody (Willie Stark) handed him a baseball bat and he felt his fingers close on the tape. He was a man and was Attorney General. And Sadie Burke was just Sadie Burke.Over the brow of the hill, there were, of course, some other people. There were, for instance, certain gentlemen who had been devoted to Joe Harrison, but who, when they discovered there wasn't going to be any more Joe Harrison politically speaking, had had to hunt up a new friend. The new friend happened to be Willie. He was the only place for them to go. They figured they would sign on with Willie and grow up with the country. Willie signed them on all right, and as a result got quite a few votes not of the wool-hat and cocklebur variety. After a while Willie even signed on Tiny Duffy, who became Highway Commissioner and, later, Lieutenant Governor in Willie's last term. I used to wonder why Willie kept him around. Sometimes I used to ask the Boss, " What do you keep that lunk-head for?" Sometimes he would just laugh and say nothing. Sometimes he would say, " Hell, somebody's got to be Lieutenant Governor, and they all look alike." But once he said: " I keep him because he reminds me of something." " What?" " Something I don't ever want to forget," he said." What's that?" " That when they come to you sweet talking you better not listen to anything they say. I don't aim to forget that." So that was it. Tiny was the fellow who had come in a big automobile and had talked sweet to Willie back when Willie was a little country lawyer. "
4
" An offering for the sake of offering, perhaps. Anyhow, it was her gift. Nothing else had she of the slightest importance; could not think, write, even play the piano. She muddled Armenians and Turks; loved success; hated discomfort; must be liked; talked oceans of nonsense: and to this day, ask her what the Equator was, and she did not know.
All the same, that one day should follow another; Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday; that one should wake up in the morning; see the sky; walk in the park; meet Hugh Whitbread; then suddenly in came Peter; then these roses; it was enough. After that, how unbelievable death was!-that it must end; and no one in the whole world would know how she had loved it all; how, every instant . . . "
― Virginia Woolf , Mrs. Dalloway
19
" The frequent hearing of my mistress readingthe bible--for she often read aloud when herhusband was absent--soon awakened mycuriosity in respect to this mystery of reading,and roused in me the desire to learn. Having nofear of my kind mistress before my eyes, (shehad given me no reason to fear,) I frankly askedher to teach me to read; and without hesitation,the dear woman began the task, and very soon,by her assistance, I was master of the alphabet,and could spell words of three or fourletters...Master Hugh was amazed at thesimplicity of his spouse, and, probably for thefirst time, he unfolded to her the true philosophyof slavery, and the peculiar rules necessary tobe observed by masters and mistresses, in themanagement of their human chattels. Mr. Auldpromptly forbade the continuance of her[reading] instruction; telling her, in the firstplace, that the thing itself was unlawful; that itwas also unsafe, and could only lead to mischief.... Mrs. Auld evidently felt the force ofhis remarks; and, like an obedient wife, beganto shape her course in the direction indicated byher husband. The effect of his words, on me,was neither slight nor transitory. His ironsentences--cold and harsh--sunk deep into myheart, and stirred up not only my feelings into asort of rebellion, but awakened within me aslumbering train of vital thought. It was a newand special revelation, dispelling a painfulmystery, against which my youthfulunderstanding had struggled, and struggled invain, to wit: the white man's power to perpetuatethe enslavement of the black man. " Very well," thought I; " knowledge unfits a child to be aslave." I instinctively assented to theproposition; and from that moment I understoodthe direct pathway from slavery to freedom. Thiswas just what I needed; and got it at a time, andfrom a source, whence I least expected it....Wise as Mr. Auld was, he evidently underratedmy comprehension, and had little idea of theuse to which I was capable of putting theimpressive lesson he was giving to his wife....That which he most loved I most hated; and thevery determination which he expressed to keepme in ignorance, only rendered me the moreresolute in seeking intelligence. "
