Words Without Deeds Are Worthless.

Each Spilt Drop Of Blood, In Any Country Under Whose Flag One Has Not Been Born, Is An Experience Passed On To Those Who Survive, To Be Added Later To The Liberation Struggle Of His Own Country. And Each Nation Liberated Is A Phase Won In The Battle For The Liberation Of One's Own Country.

And Yet Every So Often, The Heart Of America, Shuddering With Indignation, Sends A Nervous Spasm Through The Gentle Back Of The Andes, And Tumultuous Shock Waves Assault The Surface Of The Land. Three Times The Cuppola Of Proud Santo Domingo Has Collapsed From On High To The Rhythm Of Broken Bones And Its Worn Walls Have Opened And Fallen Too. But The Foundations They Rest On Are Unmoved, The Great Blocks Of The Temple Of The Sun Exhibit Their Gray Stone Indifferently; However Colossal The Disaster Befalling Its Oppressor, Not One Of Its Huge Rocks Shifts From Its Place.

The Amount Of Poverty And Suffering Required For A Rockefeller To Emerge, And The Amount Of Depravity Entailed In The Accumulation Of A Fortune Of Such Magnitude, Are Left Out Of The Picture, And It Is Not Always Possible For The Popular Forces To Expose This Clearly.

There Is No Other Definition Of Socialism Valid For Us Than That Of The Abolition Of The Exploitation Of Man By Man.

I Am Not Christ Or A Philanthropist, Old Lady, I Am All The Contrary Of A Christ I Fight For The Things I Believe In, With All The Weapons At My Disposal And Try To Leave The Other Man Dead So That I Don't Get Nailed To A Cross Or Any Other Place.