“Not that I hadn’t half expected it. No adventure of the soul is without betrayal; it is part of the stickiness which holds the soul in space. The small ones I had practiced on my own part, the mild lies I had scattered everywhere—birdseed for those left at home, chicken feed for those on ahead, and a little fruitening gardenseed for myself—would never have been enough. It took a betrayal in the highest, and by others, to make me admit that my adventure was of the soul as well as of the body. Th...ough I meant to be human, not martyr. And though perhaps not as pioneer as I had fancied—and forced at present still to work at it—that hope is still high. All during the hours of my oration, I could hear privately—and with what astonishment, delight and giddy laughter!—my own gradual advances in that direction, but tone, or even the double consciousness, is not enough. When I heard, outside the doors I had in a way helped to seal, that long, thrilling whistle-cry from home, I had a moment’s falter—my allegiance went to them, and when they entered, all my pride.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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