have a dream speech pdf

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‘I Have a Dream’ Speech

By: History.com Editors

Updated: December 19, 2023 | Original: November 30, 2017

The “I Have a Dream” speech, delivered by Martin Luther King, Jr. before a crowd of some 250,000 people at the 1963 March on Washington, remains one of the most famous speeches in history. Weaving in references to the country’s Founding Fathers and the Bible , King used universal themes to depict the struggles of African Americans before closing with an improvised riff on his dreams of equality. The eloquent speech was immediately recognized as a highlight of the successful protest, and has endured as one of the signature moments of the civil rights movement .

Civil Rights Movement Before the Speech

Martin Luther King Jr. , a young Baptist minister, rose to prominence in the 1950s as a spiritual leader of the burgeoning civil rights movement and president of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SLCC).

By the early 1960s, African Americans had seen gains made through organized campaigns that placed its participants in harm’s way but also garnered attention for their plight. One such campaign, the 1961 Freedom Rides , resulted in vicious beatings for many participants, but resulted in the Interstate Commerce Commission ruling that ended the practice of segregation on buses and in stations.

Similarly, the Birmingham Campaign of 1963, designed to challenge the Alabama city’s segregationist policies, produced the searing images of demonstrators being beaten, attacked by dogs and blasted with high-powered water hoses.

Around the time he wrote his famed “Letter from Birmingham Jail,” King decided to move forward with the idea for another event that coordinated with Negro American Labor Council (NACL) founder A. Philip Randolph’s plans for a job rights march.

March on Washington

Thanks to the efforts of veteran organizer Bayard Rustin, the logistics of the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom came together by the summer of 1963.

Joining Randolph and King were the fellow heads of the “Big Six” civil rights organizations: Roy Wilkins of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), Whitney Young of the National Urban League (NUL), James Farmer of the Congress on Racial Equality (CORE) and John Lewis of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC).

Other influential leaders also came aboard, including Walter Reuther of the United Auto Workers (UAW) and Joachim Prinz of the American Jewish Congress (AJC).

Scheduled for August 28, the event was to consist of a mile-long march from the Washington Monument to the Lincoln Memorial, in honor of the president who had signed the Emancipation Proclamation a century earlier, and would feature a series of prominent speakers.

Its stated goals included demands for desegregated public accommodations and public schools, redress of violations of constitutional rights and an expansive federal works program to train employees.

The March on Washington produced a bigger turnout than expected, as an estimated 250,000 people arrived to participate in what was then the largest gathering for an event in the history of the nation’s capital.

Along with notable speeches by Randolph and Lewis, the audience was treated to performances by folk luminaries Bob Dylan and Joan Baez and gospel favorite Mahalia Jackson .

‘I Have a Dream’ Speech Origins

In preparation for his turn at the event, King solicited contributions from colleagues and incorporated successful elements from previous speeches. Although his “I have a dream” segment did not appear in his written text, it had been used to great effect before, most recently during a June 1963 speech to 150,000 supporters in Detroit.

Unlike his fellow speakers in Washington, King didn’t have the text ready for advance distribution by August 27. He didn’t even sit down to write the speech until after arriving at his hotel room later that evening, finishing up a draft after midnight.

‘Free At Last’

As the March on Washington drew to a close, television cameras beamed Martin Luther King’s image to a national audience. He began his speech slowly but soon showed his gift for weaving recognizable references to the Bible, the U.S. Constitution and other universal themes into his oratory.

Pointing out how the country’s founders had signed a “promissory note” that offered great freedom and opportunity, King noted that “Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked ‘insufficient funds.'”

At times warning of the potential for revolt, King nevertheless maintained a positive, uplifting tone, imploring the audience to “go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.”

Mahalia Jackson Prompts MLK: 'Tell 'em About the Dream, Martin'

Around the halfway point of the speech, Mahalia Jackson implored him to “Tell ’em about the ‘Dream,’ Martin.” Whether or not King consciously heard, he soon moved away from his prepared text.

Repeating the mantra, “I have a dream,” he offered up hope that “my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character” and the desire to “transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood.”

“And when this happens,” he bellowed in his closing remarks, “and when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, Black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual: ‘Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!'”

‘I Have a Dream’ Speech Text

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself in exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we've come to our nation's Capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence , they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir.

This note was a promise that all men, yes, Black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check; a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds."

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check—a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.

The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?"

We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality.

We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities.

We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one.

We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "for whites only."

We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote.

No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident; that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, that one day right down in Alabama little Black boys and Black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exhalted [sic], every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I will go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning, "My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrims' pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania. Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado. Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California. But not only that; let freedom ring from the Stone Mountain of Georgia. Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee. Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, and when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, Black men and white men, Jews and gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

MLK Speech Reception

King’s stirring speech was immediately singled out as the highlight of the successful march.

James Reston of The New York Times wrote that the “pilgrimage was merely a great spectacle” until King’s turn, and James Baldwin later described the impact of King’s words as making it seem that “we stood on a height, and could see our inheritance; perhaps we could make the kingdom real.”

Just three weeks after the march, King returned to the difficult realities of the struggle by eulogizing three of the girls killed in the bombing of Sixteenth Street Baptist Church in Birmingham.

Still, his televised triumph at the feet of Lincoln brought favorable exposure to his movement, and eventually helped secure the passage of the landmark Civil Rights Act of 1964 . The following year, after the violent Selma to Montgomery march in Alabama, African Americans secured another victory with the Voting Rights Act of 1965 .

Over the final years of his life, King continued to spearhead campaigns for change even as he faced challenges by increasingly radical factions of the movement he helped popularize. Shortly after visiting Memphis, Tennessee, in support of striking sanitation workers, and just hours after delivering another celebrated speech, “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop,” King was assassinated by shooter James Earl Ray on the balcony of his hotel room on April 4, 1968.

'I Have a Dream' Speech Legacy

Remembered for its powerful imagery and its repetition of a simple and memorable phrase, King’s “I Have a Dream” speech has endured as a signature moment of the civil rights struggle, and a crowning achievement of one of the movement’s most famous faces.

The Library of Congress added the speech to the National Recording Registry in 2002, and the following year the National Park Service dedicated an inscribed marble slab to mark the spot where King stood that day.

In 2016, Time included the speech as one of its 10 greatest orations in history.

HISTORY Vault: Black History

Watch acclaimed Black History documentaries on HISTORY Vault.

“I Have a Dream,” Address Delivered at the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom. The Martin Luther King, Jr. Research and Education Institute . March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom. National Park Service . JFK, A. Philip Randolph and the March on Washington. The White House Historical Association . The Lasting Power of Dr. King’s Dream Speech. The New York Times .

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Freedom's Ring "I Have a Dream" Speech

Main navigation.

Freedom's Ring  is Martin Luther King, Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech, annotated. Here you can compare the written and spoken speech, explore multimedia images, listen to movement activists and uncover historical context.

Fifty years ago, in the concluding address of the 1963 March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, King demanded the riches of freedom and the security of justice. Today his language of love, nonviolent direct action and redemptive suffering, resonates globally in the millions who stand up for freedom and elevate democracy to its ideals. How do the echoes of King's Dream live within you?

Freedom's Ring serves as an innovative and thought-provoking resource for teachers, students, and the larger community. Evan Bissell, a Bay Area artist and educator, and webdesigner Erik Loyer worked with King Institute's Dr. Andrea McEvoy Spero,  Dr. Clayborne Carson and Regina Covington to create an engaging experience that documents one of the most famous events in Civil Rights history. Freedom's Ring compliments the King Legacy Series by Beacon Press and the corresponding curriculum guide. 

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MLK I Have A Dream Speech

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The White House 1600 Pennsylvania Ave NW Washington, DC 20500

Remarks by President   Biden at the Morehouse College Class of 2024 Commencement Address | Atlanta,   GA

Morehouse College Atlanta, Georgia

10:29 A.M. EDT

THE PRESIDENT:  Thank you.  (Applause.)  Thank you, thank you, thank you, President Thomas, faculty, staff, alumni.  And a special thanks — I’ll ask all the folks who helped you get here — your mothers, fathers, grandmothers, grandfathers — all those who got you here, all the way in the back, please, parents, grandparents, all who helped, stand up, because we owe you a debt of gratitude.  (Applause.)  To all the family.  And that is not hyperbole.  A lot of you, like my family, had to make significant sacrifices to get your kids to school.  It mattered.  This mattered a lot. And the friends of Morehouse and the Morehouse men of the Class of 2024.  I got more Morehouse men in the White House telling me what to do than I know what to do.  (Laughter.)  You all think I’m kidding, don’t you?  (Laughs.)  You know I’m not.  And it’s the best thing that’s happened to me.

Scripture says, “The prayers of a righteous man availeth much.”  In Augusta, Georgia, a righteous man once enslaved set foot for freedom.  The story goes he feared no evil; he walked through the valley of the shadow of death on his way north to free soil in Philadelphia.  A Baptist minister, he walked with faith in his soul, powering the steps of his feet to glory.  But after the Union won the war, he knew his prayers availed him freedom that was not his alone.  And so, this righteous man, Richard Coulter, returned home, his feet wary, his spirit in no ways tired.  A hundred and fifty-seven years ago — you all know the story, but the rest of the world doesn’t, and it should — in the basement of a Baptist church in Augusta, he and two other ministers, William Jefferson White and Edmund Turney, planted the seeds of something revolutionary — and it was at the time — a school — a school to help formerly enslaved men enter the ministry, where education would be the great equalizer from slavery to freedom — an institution of higher learning that would become Morehouse College.

I don’t know any other college in America that has that tradition and that consequence. To the Class of 2024, you join, as you know, a sacred tradition.  An education makes you free.  And Morehouse education makes you fearless.  (Applause.)  I mean it.  Visionary.  Exceptional.  Congratulations.  You are Morehouse men.  God love you.  (Applause.) 

And, again, I thank your families and your friends who helped you get here, because they made sacrifices for you as well. This graduation day is a day for generations, a day of joy, a day earned, not given.

We gather on this Sunday morning because — if we were in church, perhaps there would be this reflection.  There would be a reflection about resurrection and redemption.  Remember, Jesus was buried on Friday, and it was Sunday — on Sunday he rose again.  But — but we don’t talk enough about Saturday, when the discip- — his disciples felt all hope was lost.  In our lives and the lives of the nation, we have those Saturdays — to bear witness the day before glory, seeing people’s pain and not looking away.  But what work is done on Saturday to move pain to purpose?  How can faith get a man, get a nation through what was to come? 

Here’s what my faith has taught me. 

I was the first Biden to ever graduate from college, taking out loans with my dad and my — all through school to get me there.  My junior year spring break, I fell in love at first sight, literally, with a woman I adored.  I graduated from law school in her hometown, and I got married and took a job at a law firm in my hometown, Wilmington, Delaware.  But then everything changed. 

One of my heroes — and he was my hero — a Baptist minister, a Morehouse man, Dr. Martin Luther King — in April of my law school graduation year, he was murdered. 

My city of Wilmington — and we were a — to our great shame, a slave state, and we were segregated.  Delaware erupted into flames when he was assassinated, literally. 

We’re the only city in America where the National Guard patrolled every street corner for nine full months with drawn bayonets, the longest stretch in any American city since the Civil War.  Dr. le- — Dr. King’s legacy had a profound impact on me and my generation, whether you’re Black or white.  I left the fancy law firm I had just joined and decided to become a public defender and then a county councilman, working to change our state’s politics to embrace the cause of civil rights.  The Democratic Party in Delaware was a Southern Democratic Party at the time.  We wanted to change it to become a Northeastern Democratic Party. 

Then, we were trying to get someone to run for the United States Senate the year Nixon ran.  I was 29 years of age.  I had no notion of running — I love reading about everybody knew I was going to run; I didn’t know I was going to run — (laughter) — when a group of senior members of the Democratic Party came to me.  They couldn’t find anybody to run and said, “You should run.”  Nixon won my state by 60 percent of the vote.  We won by 3,100 votes.  We won by the thinnest of margins but with a broad coalition, including students from the best HBCU in America, Delaware State University.  You guys are good, but — (laughter) — they got me elected.  And you all — you all think I’m kidding.  (Laughter.)  I’m not kidding. But by Christmas, I was a newly elected senator hiring staff in Washington, D.C., when I got a call from the first responders, my fire department in my hometown, that forever altered my life.  They put a young woman first responder on the line to say, “There was an automobile accident.  A tractor-trailer hit your wife’s car while she was Christmas shopping with your three children.”  And she — poor woman, she just blurted out.  She said, “Your wife and daughter are killed” — my 13-month-old daughter — “they’re dead, and your almost three-year-old and four-year-old sons are badly injured.  We’re not sure they’re going to make it, either.”  I rushed from Washington to their bedside.  I wanted to pray, but I was so angry.  I was angry at God.  I was angry at the world.

I had the same pain 43 years later when that four-year-old boy who survived was a grown man and a father himself, laying in another hospital bed at Walter Reed hospital having contracted stage four glioblastoma because he was a year in Iraq as a major — he won the Bronze Star — living next to a burn pit.  Cancer took his last breath. On this walk of life, you can understand — you come to understand that we don’t know where or what fate will bring you or when.  But we also know we don’t walk alone.  When you’ve been a beneficiary of the compassion of your family, your friends, even strangers, you know how much the compassion matters.  I’ve learned there is no easy optimism, but by faith — by faith, we can find redemption. 

I was a single father for five years — 

No man deserves one great love, let alone two.  My youngest brother, who was a hell of an athlete, did a great thing.  He introduced me to a classmate of his and said, “You’ll love her; she doesn’t like politics.”  (Laughter.)  But all kidding aside, until I met Jill, who healed — who healed the family in all the broken places.  Our family became my redemption.  Many of you have gone through similar or worse — and even worse things.  But you lean on others, they lean on you, and together, you keep the faith in a better day tomorrow.  But it’s not easy.

I know four years ago, as some of your speakers have already mentioned, it felt like one of those Saturdays.  

The pandemic robbed you of so much.  Some of you lost loved ones — mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, who were — aren’t able to be here to celebrate with you today — today.  You missed your high school graduation.  You started college just as George Floyd was murdered and there was a reckoning on race. 

It’s natural to wonder if democracy you hear about actually works for you. 

What is democracy if Black men are being killed in the street? 

What is democracy if a trail of broken promises still leave Black — Black communities behind? 

What is democracy if you have to be 10 times better than anyone else to get a fair shot? 

And most of all, what does it mean, as we’ve heard before, to be a Black man who loves his country even if it doesn’t love him back in equal measure?  (Applause.)

When I sit behind the Resolute Desk in the Oval Office, in front of the fireplace across from my — my desk, I have two busts: one of Dr. King and one of Bobby Kennedy.  I often find myself looking at those busts and making decisions.  I ask myself: Are we living up to what we say we are as a nation, to end racism and poverty, to deliver jobs and justice, to restore our leadership in the world?  Then I look down and see the rosary on my wrist that was out of — my late son, he had on him when he w- — died at Walter Reed and I was with him.  And I ask myself: What would he say?  I know the answer because he told me in his last days. 

My son knew the days were numbered.  The last conversation was, “Dad, I’m not afraid, but I’m worried.  I’m worried you’re going to give up when I go.  You’re going to give up.” We have an expression in the Biden family.  When you want someone to know — give you their word, you say, “Look at me.”  He was lying to me — he said, “Look at me, Dad.  Look at me.” 

He said, “Give me your word.  Give me your word as my father that you will not quit, that you will stay engaged.  Promise me, Dad.  Stay engaged.  Promise me.  Promise me.” I wrote a book called “Promise Me, Dad,” not for the public at large, although a lot of people would end up buying it.  It’s for my grandchildren and great-grandchildren to know who Beau Biden was. 

The rosary on the — my wrist, the bust in my office remind me that faith asks you to hold on to hope, to move heaven and earth to make better days.  Well, that’s my commitment to you: to show you democracy, democracy, democracy is still the way.

If Black men are being killed on the streets, we bear witness.  For me, that means to call out the poison of white supremacy, to root out systemic racism. 

I stood up for George — with George Floyd’s family to help create a country where you don’t need to have that talk with your son or grandson as they get pulled over.

Instead of a trail of broken promises, we’re investing more money than ever in Black families and Black communities.  We’re reconnecting Black neighborhoods cut off by old highways and decades of disinvestment where no one cared about the community. 

We’ve delivered checks in pockets to reduce child — Black child poverty to the lowest rate in history.  We’re removing every lead pipe in America so every child can drink clean water without fear of brain damage, and then can’t afford to remove the lead pipes themselves. 

We’re delivering affordable high-speed Internet so no child has to sit in their parents’ car or do their homework in a parking lot outside of McDonald’s.

Instead of forcing you to prove you’re 10 times better, we’re breaking down doors so you have 100 times more opportunities: good-paying jobs you can raise a family on in your neighborhood — (applause); capital to start small business and loans to buy homes; health insurance, prescriptions drugs, housing that’s more affordable and accessible.

I’ve walked the picket line and defended the rights of workers.  I’m relieving the burden of student debt — many of you have already had the benefit of it — (applause) — so I [you] can chase your dreams and grow the economy.  When the Supreme Court told me I couldn’t, I found two other ways to do it.  (Applause.)  And we were able to do it, because it grows the economy.  And I — in addition to the original $7 billion investment in HBCUs, I’m investing 16 billion  more dollars — (applause) — more in our history, because you’re vital to our nation.  Most HBCUs don’t have the endowments.  The jobs of the future require sophisticated laboratories, sophisticated oppor- — opportunity on campus.  We’re opening doors so you can walk into a life of generational wealth, to be providers and leaders for your families and communities.  Today, record numbers of Black Americans have jobs, health insurance, and more [wealth] than ever.

Democracy is also about hearing and heeding your generation’s call to a community free of gun violence and a planet free of climate crisis and showing your power to change the world.

But I also know some of you ask: What is democracy if we can’t stop wars that break out and break our hearts?

In a democracy, we debate and dissent about America’s role in the world. 

I want to say this very clearly.  I support peaceful, nonviolent protest.  Your voices should be heard, and I promise you I hear them.  I determined to make my c- — my administration look like America.  I have more African Americans in high places, including on the Court, than any president in American history — (applause) — because I need the input. What’s happening in Gaza and Israel is heartbreaking.  Hamas’s vicious attack on Israel, killing innocent lives and holding people hostage.  I was there nine days after, s- — pictures of tying a mother and a daughter with a rope, pouring kerosene on them, burning them and watching as they died.  Innocent Palestinians caught in the middle of all this: men, women, and children killed or displaced in despite — in desperate need of water, food, and medicine.  It’s a humanitarian crisis in Gaza.  That’s why I’ve called for an immediate ceasefire — an immediate ceasefire to stop the fighting — (applause) — bring the hostages home.  And I’ve been working on a deal as we speak, working around the clock to lead an international effort to get more aid into Gaza, rebuild Gaza.   I’m also working around the clock for more than just one ceasefire.  I’m working to bring the region together.  I’m working to build a lasting, durable peace.  Because the question is, as you see what’s going on in Israel today: What after?  What after Hamas?  What happens then?  What happens in Gaza?  What rights do the Palestinian people have?  I’m working to make sure we finally get a two-state solution — the only solution — (applause) — for two people to live in peace, security, and dignity.  This is one of the hardest, most complicated problems in the world.  And there’s nothing easy about it.  I know it angered and frustrates many of you, including my family.  But most of all, I know it breaks your heart.  It breaks mine as well.  Leadership is about fighting through the most intractable problems.  It’s about challenging anger, frustration, and heartbreak to find a solution.  It’s about doing what you believe is right, even when it’s hard and lonely. You’re all future leaders, every one of you graduating today.  And that’s not hyperbole.  You’re future leaders, all of you.  You’ll face complicated, tough moments.  In these moments, you’ll listen to others, but you’ll have to decide, guided by knowledge, conviction, principle, and your own moral compass.

And the desire to know what freedom is, what it can be is the heart and soul of why this college was founded in the first place, proving that a free nation is born in the hearts of men spellbound by freedom.  But the — that’s the magic of Morehouse.  That’s the magic of America.

But let’s be clear what happens to you and your family when old ghosts in new garments seize power, extremists come for the freedoms you thought belonged to you and everyone. 

Today in Georgia, they won’t allow water to be available to you while you wait in line to vote in an election.  What in the hell is that all about?  (Applause.)  I’m serious.  Think about it.  And then the constant attacks on Black election workers who count your vote.

Insurrectionists who storm the Capitol with Confederate flags are called “patriots” by some.  Not in my house.  (Applause.)  Black police officers, Black veterans protecting the Capitol were called another word, as you’ll recall. 

They also say out loud, these other groups, immigrants “poison the blood” of our country, like the Grand Wizard and fascists said in the past.  But you know and I know we all bleed the same color.  In America, we’re all created equal.  (Applause.)

Extremists close the doors of opportunity; strike down affirmative action; attack the values of diversity, equality, and inclusion. 

I never thought when I was graduating in 1968 — as your honoree just was — we talked about — I never thought I’d be in — present in a time when there’s a national effort to ban books — not to write history but to erase history.  They don’t see you in the future of America.  But they’re wrong.  To me, we make history, not erase it.  We know Black history is American history.  (Applause.)  Many of you graduates don’t know me, but check my record, you’ll know what I’m saying I mean from my gut. 

And we know Black men are going to help us, lead us to the future — Black men from this class, in this university.  (Applause.)  

But, graduates, this is what we’re up against: extremist forces aligned against the meaning and message of Morehouse.  And they peddle a fiction, a caricature what being a man is about — tough talk, abusing power, bigotry.  Their idea of being a man is toxic.  I ran into them all the time when I was younger.  They got — all right, I don’t want to get started.  (Laughter.)  But that’s not you.  It’s not us.  You all know and demonstrate what it really means to be a man.  Being a man is about the strength of respect and dignity.  It’s about showing up because it’s too late if you have to ask.  It’s about giving hate no safe harbor and leaving no one behind and defending freedoms.  It’s about standing up to the abuse of power, whether physical, economic, or psychological.  It’s about knowing faith without works is dead.  (Applause.)

Look — and you’re doing the work.  Today, I look out at all you graduates and I see the next generation of Morehouse men who are doctors and researchers curing cancer; artists shaping our culture; fearless journalists and intellectuals challenging convention.  I see preachers and advocates who might even join another Morehouse man in the United States Senate.  You can clap for him.  He’s a good man.  (Applause.) 

As I said, I’m proud to have the most diverse administration in history to tap into the full talents of our nation.  I’m also proud of putting the first Black woman on the United States Supreme Court.  (Applause.)  And I have no doubt, one day a Morehouse man will be on that Court as well.  (Applause.)  You know it.

I’ve been vice president to the first Black president and become my close friend and president to the first woman vice president.  (Applause.)  Wh- — I have no idea — no doubt that a Morehouse man will be president one day, just after an AKA from Howard.  (Laughter and applause.)  She’s tough, guys.  (Laughter.)

Look, let me close with this.  I know I don’t look like I’ve been around very long.  (Laughter.)  (The President makes the sign of the cross.)  But in my career, for the first 30 years, I was told, “You’re too young, kid.”  They used to stop me from getting on the Senate elevator when I first got there, for real.  Now, I’m too old.  Whether you’re young or old, I know what endures: The strength and wisdom of faith endures.  And I hope — my hope for you is — my challenge to you is that you still keep the faith so long as you can.  That cap on your head proves you’ve earned your crown.  The question is now, 25 years from now, 50 years from now, when you’re asked to stand and address the next generation of Morehouse men, what will you say you did with that power you’ve earned?  What will you say you’ve done for your family, for your community, your country when it mattered most?  I know what we can do.  Together, we’re capable of building a democracy worthy of our dreams; a future where every — even more of your brothers and sisters can follow their dreams; a boundless future where your legacies lift us up t- — so those who follow; a bigger, brighter future that proves the American Dream is big enough for everyone to succeed.

Class of 2024, four years ago, it felt probably like Saturday.  Four years later, you made it to Sunday, to commencement, to the beginning.  And with faith and determination, you can push the sun above the horizon once more.  You can reveal a light hope — and that’s not — I’m not kidding — for yourself and for your nation.  “The prayers of a righteous man availeth much.”  A righteous man.  A good man.  A Morehouse man.  God bless you all.  We’re expecting a lot from you. Thank you.  (Applause.)

10:55 A.M. EDT

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• Speech Writing /

Speech on Corruption in Business and Corporate Practices in English

• Updated on  
• May 25, 2024

This page will discuss a speech on Corruption in Business and Corporate Practices for school students. Corruption is like the plague, it can cripple economies and severely affect everyone in society. It does not have any borders or limitations. The greed for money and power gives rise to corruption, and very soon, it disturbs the smooth functioning of society. Check out this speech on corruption in business and corporate practices.

3 Minute Speech on Corruption in Business and Corruption Practices 

Quick Read: Elections in India Essay in 500 Words

Paragraph on Corruption in Business and Corruption Practices

Quick Read: Media and Corruption: Short and Long Speech

A.1 Good morning, respected teachers and dear friends. Corruption in business is like the plague, it can cripple economies and severely affect everyone in society. It is an unethical and immoral practice that erodes social trust and distorts markets. When a person becomes greedy and seeks power and money, he or she turns to unethical and illegal means. The Corruption Perception Index 2023 ranked India at 93rd position, with only 39 points.

A.2 A conclusion should include a clear review of the main points of the speech. The purpose is to remind the audience of the main ideas that were covered in the speech.

A.3 Speech delivery practice: Stand tall—do not hold or lean on the podium. Come out from behind the podium during the speech. Makes an impact, especially after the speech. Use gestures. Be sure gestures can be seen. Make eye contact. It is easy with a podium to look down especially if you have notes or outlines.

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Read Martin Luther King Jr.'s 'I Have a Dream' speech in its entirety

Civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. addresses the crowd at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C., where he gave his "I Have a Dream" speech on Aug. 28, 1963, as part of the March on Washington. AFP via Getty Images hide caption

Civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. addresses the crowd at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C., where he gave his "I Have a Dream" speech on Aug. 28, 1963, as part of the March on Washington.

Monday marks Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. Below is a transcript of his celebrated "I Have a Dream" speech, delivered on Aug. 28, 1963, on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. NPR's Talk of the Nation aired the speech in 2010 — listen to that broadcast at the audio link above.

Martin Luther King Jr. and other civil rights leaders gather before a rally at the Lincoln Memorial on Aug. 28, 1963, in Washington. National Archives/Hulton Archive via Getty Images hide caption

Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.: Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But 100 years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself in exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition. In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a check.

Code Switch

The power of martin luther king jr.'s anger.

When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men — yes, Black men as well as white men — would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked insufficient funds.

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt.

Martin Luther King is not your mascot

We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so we've come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism.

Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

Civil rights protesters march from the Washington Monument to the Lincoln Memorial for the March on Washington on Aug. 28, 1963. Kurt Severin/Three Lions/Hulton Archive/Getty Images hide caption

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. 1963 is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual.

There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

Throughline

Bayard rustin: the man behind the march on washington (2021).

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny.

And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone. And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back.

There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, when will you be satisfied? We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities.

We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating: for whites only.

We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote.

No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream.

How The Voting Rights Act Came To Be And How It's Changed

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our Northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.

Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.

So even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.

People clap and sing along to a freedom song between speeches at the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom in 1963. Express Newspapers via Getty Images hide caption

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day down in Alabama with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, one day right down in Alabama little Black boys and Black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

Nikole Hannah-Jones on the power of collective memory

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This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning: My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrims' pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true. And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania. Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado. Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California. But not only that, let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia. Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee. Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, and when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, Black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual: Free at last. Free at last. Thank God almighty, we are free at last.

Correction Jan. 15, 2024

A previous version of this transcript included the line, "We have also come to his hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now." The correct wording is "We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now."

The Tell-Tale Heart

Ai generator.

Download The Tell- Tale Heart Full Poem - PDF

The Tell-Tale Heart Poem – by Edgar Allan Poe (Text-Version)

True! — nervous — very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses — not destroyed — not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily — how calmly I can tell you the whole story.

It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! yes, it was this! One of his eyes resembled that of a vulture — a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees — very gradually — I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.

Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded — with what caution — with what foresight — with what dissimulation I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of his door and opened it — oh, so gently! And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed, closed, so that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly — very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man’s sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. Ha! — would a madman have been so wise as this? And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the lantern cautiously — oh, so cautiously — cautiously (for the hinges creaked) — I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights — every night just at midnight — but I found the eye always closed; and so it was impossible to do the work; for it was not the old man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into the chamber, and spoke courageously to him, calling him by name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he had passed the night. So you see he would have been a very profound old man, indeed, to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.

Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. A watch’s minute hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never before that night had I felt the extent of my own powers — of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. To think that there I was, opening the door, little by little, and he not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea; and perhaps he heard me; for he moved on the bed suddenly, as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back — but no. His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness, (for the shutters were close fastened, through fear of robbers,) and so I knew that he could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.

I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon the tin fastening, and the old man sprang up in the bed, crying out — “Who’s there?”

I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed listening; — just as I have done, night after night, hearkening to the death watches in the wall.

Presently I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a groan of pain or of grief — oh, no! — it was the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when all the world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me. I say I knew it well. I knew what the old man felt, and pitied him, although I chuckled at heart. I knew that he had been lying awake ever since the first slight noise, when he had turned in the bed. His fears had been ever since growing upon him. He had been trying to fancy them causeless, but could not. He had been saying to himself — “It is nothing but the wind in the chimney — it is only a mouse crossing the floor,” or “it is merely a cricket which has made a single chirp.” Yes, he has been trying to comfort himself with these suppositions: but he had found all in vain. All in vain; because Death, in approaching him had stalked with his black shadow before him, and enveloped the victim. And it was the mournful influence of the unperceived shadow that caused him to feel — although he neither saw nor heard — to feel the presence of my head within the room.

When I had waited a long time, very patiently, without hearing him lie down, I resolved to open a little — a very, very little crevice in the lantern. So I opened it — you cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily — until, at length a single dim ray, like the thread of the spider, shot from out the crevice and fell upon the vulture eye.

It was open — wide, wide open — and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. I saw it with perfect distinctness — all a dull blue, with a hideous veil over it that chilled the very marrow in my bones; but I could see nothing else of the old man’s face or person: for I had directed the ray as if by instinct, precisely upon the damned spot.

And now have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over acuteness of the senses? — now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I knew that sound well, too. It was the beating of the old man’s heart. It increased my fury, as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.

But even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eye. Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and louder every instant. The old man’s terror must have been extreme! It grew louder, I say, louder every moment! — do you mark me well? I have told you that I am nervous: so I am. And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me — the sound would be heard by a neighbor! The old man’s hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked once — once only. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. I then smiled gaily, to find the deed so far done. But, for many minutes, the heart beat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through the wall. At length it ceased. The old man was dead. I removed the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eye would trouble me no more.

If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence. First of all I dismembered the corpse. I cut off the head and the arms and the legs.

I then took up three planks from the flooring of the chamber, and deposited all between the scantlings. I then replaced the boards so cleverly, so cunningly, that no human eye — not even his — could have detected any thing wrong. There was nothing to wash out — no stain of any kind — no blood-spot whatever. I had been too wary for that. A tub had caught all — ha! ha!

When I had made an end of these labors, it was four o ‘clock — still dark as midnight. As the bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the street door. I went down to open it with a light heart, — for what had I now to fear? There entered three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of the police. A shriek had been heard by a neighbor during the night; suspicion of foul play had been aroused; information had been lodged at the police office, and they (the officers) had been deputed to search the premises.

I smiled, — for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome. The shriek, I said, was my own in a dream. The old man, I mentioned, was absent in the country. I took my visitors all over the house. I bade them search — search well. I led them, at length, to his chamber. I showed them his treasures, secure, undisturbed. In the enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the victim.

The officers were satisfied. My manner had convinced them. I was singularly at ease. They sat, and while I answered cheerily, they chatted of familiar things. But, ere long, I felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in my ears: but still they sat and still chatted. The ringing became more distinct: — it continued and became more distinct: I talked more freely to get rid of the feeling: but it continued and gained definitiveness — until, at length, I found that the noise was not within my ears.

No doubt I now grew very pale; — but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased — and what could I do? It was a low, dull, quick sound — much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath — and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly — more vehemently; but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased. Why would they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men — but the noise steadily increased. Oh God! what could I do? I foamed — I raved — I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It grew louder — louder — louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly, and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! — no, no! They heard! — they suspected! — they knew! — they were making a mockery of my horror! — this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! — and now — again! — hark! louder! louder! louder! louder! —

“Villains!” I shrieked, “dissemble no more! I admit the deed! — tear up the planks! — here, here! — it is the beating of his hideous heart!”

Text prompt

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10 Examples of Public speaking

20 Examples of Gas lighting