W. E. B. Du Bois,
The Quest of the Silver Fleece…
“ To work in the fields meant endless toil and a vista that opened upon death. Like a hunted thing the girl turned and twisted in thought and faced everywhere the blank Impossible. Cold and dreamlike without, her shut teeth held back seething fires within, and a spirit of revolt that gathered wildness as it grew. Above all flew the dream, the phantasy, the memory of the past, the vision of the future. ”
