The thing is, you cannot judge a race. Any man who judges by the group is a pea-wit. You take men one at a time.
To me, there was never any difference. None at all. Of course, I haven’t known that many freedmen… but those I knew in Bangor, Portland… you look in the eye, there was a man. There was a “divine spark,” as my mother used to call it. That is all there is to it.
Races are men. ”What a piece of work is man. How infinite in faculties, in form and moving… how express and admirable. In action, how like an angel.” Well, if he’s an angel, all right then… but he damn well must be a killer angel.
Colonel, darling, you’re a lovely man. I see a great vast difference between us, yet I admire you, lad. You’re an idealist, praise be. The truth is, Colonel… there is no “divine spark.” There’s many a man alive no more of value than a dead dog. Believe me. When you’ve seen them hang each other the way I have back in the Old Country.
Equality? What I’m fighting for is the right to prove I’m a better man than many of them. Where have you seen this “divine spark” in operation, Colonel? Where have you noted this magnificent equality?
No two things on earth are equal or have an equal chance. Not a leaf, not a tree. There’s many a man worse than me and some better… but I don’t think race or country matters a damn.
What matters, Colonel… is justice. Which is why I’m here. I’ll be treated as I deserve… not as my father deserved.
I’m Kilrain… and I damn all gentlemen.
There is only one aristocracy… and that is right here.
And that’s why we’ve got to win this war.