What happens in a strike happens not to one person alone.... It is a crisis with meaning and potency for all and prophetic of a future. The elements in crisis are the same, there is a fermentation that is identical. The elements are these: a body of men, women and children, hungry; an organization of feudal employers out to break the back of unionization; and the government Labor Board sent to "negotiate" between this hunger and this greed.

Suddenly many movements are going on within me, many things are happening, there is an almost unbearable sense of sprouting, of bursting encasements, of moving kernels, expanding flesh.

It was the bumble bee and the butterfly who survived, not the dinosaur.

It's not the suffering of birth, death, love that the young reject, but the suffering of endless labor without dream, eating the spare bread in bitterness, being a slave without the security of a slave.

An abyss seems to have opened between the intellectual cosmopolites of culture and the people, hungry for word and meaning.

Hard times ain't quit and we ain't quit.

You can tell by looking at most people that the world remains a stone to them and a closed door.