Last Words Are For Those Fools Who

Labor Produces Marvels For The Rich But It Produces Deprivation For The Worker. It Produces Palaces, But Hovels For The Worker. It Produces Beauty, But Deformity For The Worker. It Replaces Labor By Machines, But It Throws One Section Of The Workers Back To Barbaric Labor, And It Turns The Remainder Into Machines.

Philosophy Is To Science As Masturbation Is To Sex.

The Monopoly Of Capital Becomes A Fetter Upon The Mode Of Production, Which Has Sprung Up And Flourished Along With, And Under It. Centralisation Of The Means Of Production And Socialisation Of Labour At Last Reach A Point Where They Become Incompatible With There Capitalist Integument. This Integument Is Burst Asunder. The Knell Of Capitalist Private Property Sounds. The Expropriators Are Expropriated.

All Science Would Be Superfluous If The Outward Appearance And The Essence Of Things Directly Coincided.

Surround Yourself With People Who Make You Happy. People Who Make You Laugh, Who Help You When You’re In Need. People Who Genuinely Care. They Are The Ones Worth Keeping In Your Life. Everyone Else Is Just Passing Through.