I live in the United States, but I do not know exactly where. My address is wherever there is a fight against oppression.

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

God almighty made women and the Rockefeller gang of thieves made the ladies.

I went West and took part in the strike of the machinists - the Southern Pacific Railroad, the corporation that swung California by its golden tail, that controlled its legislature, its farmers, its preachers, its workers.

You ought to be out raising hell. This is the fighting age. Put on your fighting clothes.

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!

Little girls and boys, barefooted, walked up and down between the endless rows of spindles, reaching thin little hands into the machinery to repair snapped threads