You Know, If Ever There

The White Man Is Going To Keep You Integration-minded Negroes Cooped Up Here In America, And When You Discover That The White Man Is A Trickster, A Devil, That He Has No Intentions Of Integrating, Then You Negroes Will Run Wild.

When I Am Dead--i Say It That Way Because From The Things I Know, I Do Not Expect To Live Long Enough To Read This Book In Its Finished Form--i Want You To Just Watch And See If I'm Not Right In What I Say: That The White Man, In His Press, Is Going To Identify Me With "hate". He Will Make Use Of Me Dead, As He Has Made Use Of Me Alive, As A Convenient Symbol, Of "hatred"--and That Will Help Him Escape Facing The Truth That All I Have Been Doing Is Holding Up A Mirror To Reflect, To Show, The History Of Unspeakable Crimes That His Race Has Committed Against My Race.

I Remember One Thing That Marred This Time For Me; The Movie "gone With The Wind." When It Played In Mason [mi], I Was The Only Negro In The Theater, And When Butterfly Mcqueen Went Into Her Act, I Felt Like Crawling Under The Rug.

How Can Anyone Be Against Love?

How Could There Be Any Difference Between The Messenger And Me? I Am His Slave, His Servant, His Son. He Is The Leader, The Only Spokesman For The Black Muslims.