Pray for the dead and fight like hell for the living.

I learned in the early part of my career that labor must bear the cross for others’ sins, must be the vicarious sufferer for the wrongs that others do.

Pray for the dead and fight like hell for the living.

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

I have never had a vote, and I have raised hell all over this country. You don’t need a vote to raise hell! You need convictions and a voice!

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

The miners lost because they had only the constitution. The other side had bayonets. In the end, bayonets always win.

My address is like my shoes. It travels with me. I abide where there is a fight against wrong.

Whatever your fight, don’t be ladylike.

I’m not a humanitarian, I’m a hell-raiser.

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!

I preferred sewing to bossing little children.

I believe that no man who holds a leader’s position should ever accept favors from either side. He is then committed to show favors. A leader must stand alone.

I am not afraid of the pen, or the scaffold, or the sword. I will tell the truth wherever I please.

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

If they want to hang me, let them. And on the scaffold I will shout Freedom for the working class!