Joe Hill
Joe Hill
Joe Hill, born Joel Emmanuel Hägglund in Gävle, Sweden, and also known as Joseph Hillströmwas a Swedish-American labor activist, songwriter, and member of the Industrial Workers of the World. A native Swedish speaker, he learned English during the early 1900s, while working various jobs from New York to San Francisco. Hill, an immigrant worker frequently facing unemployment and underemployment, became a popular songwriter and cartoonist for the radical union. His most famous songs include "The Preacher and the Slave", "The...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionActivist
Date of Birth7 October 1879
CountryUnited States of America
We'll have freedom, love and health/When the grand red flag is flying, In the Workers' Commonwealth.
Were talking about an attitude. Delayed gratification is there, planning, be able to give up something now to get something later.
Innocence ain’t all it’s cracked up to be, you know. Innocent little kids rip the wings off flies, because they don’t know any better. That’s innocence
If the workers took a notion they could stop all speeding trains; every ship upon the ocean they can tie with mighty chains.
I have nothing to say for myself, only that I have always tried to make this earth a little bit better
And he paddled away in his douche canoe.
What a blessed if painful thing, this business of being alive.
Don't mourn, Organise
Gold don't come off. What's good stays good no matter how much of a beating it takes.
Terror is the desire to save your own ass, but horror is rooted in sympathy.
She'd thought love had something to do with happiness, but it turned out they were not even vaguely related. Love was closer to a need, no different from the need to eat, to breathe.
The mad sometimes drilled holes in their own heads to let the demons out. To relieve the pressure of thoughts they could no longer bear. Jude understood the impulse. Each beat of his heart was a fresh and staggering blow felt in the nerves behind his eyes and in his temples. Punishing evidence of life.
You know someone for a while and then one day a hole opens underneath them, and they fall out of your world.
He understood that the ghost existed first and foremost within his own head. That maybe ghosts always haunted minds, not places. If he wanted to take a shot at it, he’d have to turn the barrel against his own temple.