Revolutions, we must remember, are always made by minorities.

Competition is the law of the jungle, but cooperation is the law of civilization

The hopeless don't revolt, because revolution is an act of hope.

Everywhere you will find that the wealth of the wealthy springs from the poverty of the poor.

The law has no claim to human respect. It has no civilizing mission; its only purpose is to protect exploitation.

Where there is authority, there is no freedom.

Think about the world you want to live and work in. What do you need to know to build the world? Demand that your teachers teach you that.

Have not prisons - which kill all will and force of character in man, which enclose within their walls more vices than are met with on any other spot of the globe - always been universities of crime?

In existing States a fresh law is looked upon as a remedy for evil. Instead of themselves altering what is bad, people begin by demanding a law to alter it.

Poverty, the existence of the poor, was the first cause of riches.

When we have but the will to do it, that very moment will Justice be done: that very instant the tyrants of the Earth shall bite the dust.

Limitations and Disbelief are the Worst Rules That Create The Prison of The Mind. Be Limitless

Forgiveness is alchemy of the soul in which the feeling of possibility returns to the human spirit.

They were Archer's second set of children an d paragons of contemporary teenage cynicism. They enjoyed setting fire to the tails of tender thoughts.

I've taught fifth-year Christmas leavers last thing on a Friday afternoon. Basically, if you can face that you can face anything.

The harshest winter finds an invincible summer in us.

I initially signed up for Twitter just to do jokes I wasn't going to do in my stand-up routine.

There are no days off in our division. Even a team like Tampa Bay can beat you up.

Young people voted [on Brexit] to remain by a considerable margin, but were outvoted. They were voting for their future, yet it has been taken from them.

In a somer seson, whan softe was the sonne, I shoop me into shroudes as I a sheep were, In habite an heremite unholy of werkes, Went wide in this world wondres to here.

If we are true to ourselves, we can not be false to anyone.