It is impossible to predict the time and progress of revolution. It is governed by its own more or less mysterious laws.
Vladimir LeninRead
Only an armed people can be the real bulwark of popular liberty.
Interpretation
The quote emphasizes the importance of being prepared and armed in order to protect personal freedoms and rights.
Lenin's quote suggests that genuine liberty can only be maintained by a populace that is willing and able to defend it, especially through the means of being armed. It reflects a belief in the necessity of self-defense and empowerment as fundamental to safeguarding freedoms against oppression.
In practice
In a political rally discussing the importance of civil rights.
It is impossible to predict the time and progress of revolution. It is governed by its own more or less mysterious laws.
For the complete extinction of the state, complete Communism is necessary.
Medicine is the keystone of the arch of socialism.
A democracy is a state which recognizes the subjection of the minority to the majority, that is, an organization for the systematic use of violence by one class against the other, by one part of the population against another.
We are not utopians, we do not βdreamβ of dispensing at once with all administration, with all subordination. These anarchist dreams, based upon incomprehension of the tasks of the proletarian dictatorship, are totally alien to Marxism, and, as a matter of fact, serve only to postpone the socialist revolution until people are different. No, we want the socialist revolution with people as they are now, with people who cannot dispense with subordination, control, and "foremen and accountants".
The way to crush the bourgeoisie is to grind them between the millstones of taxation and inflation.
For in the long run, either through a lie, or through truth, people were bound to give themselves away.
Each time a new baby is born there is a possibility of reprieve. Each child is a new being, a potential prophet, a new spiritual prince, a new spark of light precipitated into the outer darkness.
I wept heartily over this poor little deceased soul. It was the first sentient being I had ever killed. I was now a killer. I was now as guilty as Cain. I was sixteen years old, a harmless boy, bookish and religious, and now I had blood on my hands. It's a terrible burden to carry. All sentient life is sacred.
The times are too difficult and the crisis too severe to indulge in schadenfreude. Looking at it in perspective, the fact that there would be a financial crisis was perfectly predictable: its general nature, if not its magnitude. Markets are always inefficient.
I'm afraid of losing my obscurity. Genuineness only thrives in the dark. Like celery.
Does such a thing as "the fatal flaw," that showy dark crack running down the middle of a life, exist outside literature?
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