The Writer May Very Well Serve A

The Task Is Not Just To Understand The World But To Change It.

Labor Produces Marvels For The Rich But It Produces Deprivation For The Worker. It Produces Palaces, But Hovels For The Worker. It Produces Beauty, But Deformity For The Worker. It Replaces Labor By Machines, But It Throws One Section Of The Workers Back To Barbaric Labor, And It Turns The Remainder Into Machines.

The Consciousness Of The Past Weighs Like A Nightmare On The Brain Of The Living.

Do Not Be Deluded By The Abstract Word Freedom. Whose Freedom? Not The Freedom Of One Individual In Relation To Another, But Freedom Of Capital To Crush The Worker.

Capital Is Dead Labor, Which, Vampire-like, Lives Only By Sucking Living Labor, And Lives The More, The More Labor It Sucks.