The Wealthy Man Is The Man Whois

Art Is Always And Everywhere The Secret Confession, And At The Same Time The Immortal Movement Of Its Time.

All Freed, Fast-frozen Relations, With Their Train Of Ancient And Venerable Prejudices And Opinions, Are Swept Away, All New-formed Ones Become Antiquated Before They Can Ossify. All That Is Solid Melts Into Air, All That Is Holy Is Profaned, And Man Is At Last Compelled To Face With Sober Senses, His Real Conditions Of Life, And His Relations With His Kind.

There Are No Circumstances Imaginable, Not Even Victory, Under Which The Proletariat Should Give Up Its Possession Of Arms.

On A Level Plain, Simple Mounds Look Like Hills; And The Insipid Flatness Of Our Present Bourgeoisie Is To Be Measured By The Altitude Of Its Great Intellects.

The Ideas Of The Ruling Class Are In Every Epoch The Ruling Ideas, I.e., The Class Which Is The Ruling Material Force Of Society, Is At The Same Time Its Ruling Intellectual Force.