Today the white child is sold for two dollars a week to the manufacturers.

That is, the wife must care for what the husband cares for if he is to remain resolute.

Injustice boils in men's hearts as does steel in its cauldron, ready to pour forth, white hot, in the fullness of time.

I nursed men back to sanity who were driven to despair. I solicited clothes for the ragged children, for the desperate mothers. I laid out the dead, the martyrs of the strike.

My teachers treated me as a diamond in the rough, someone who needed smoothing.

Some day the workers will take possession of your city hall, and when we do, no child will be sacrificed on the altar of profit!

Sometimes it seemed to me I could not look at those silent little figures; that I must go north, to the grim coal fields, to the Rocky Mountain camps, where the labor fight is at least fought by grown men