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
I see God now as an unimaginative writer of popular fictions, someone who builds stories around sadistic and graceless plots, narratives that exist only to express His terror of a woman's power to choose who and how to love, to redefine love as she sees fit, not as God thinks it ought to be. The author is unworthy of His own characters.
Maybe all the schemes of the devil were nothing compared to what man could think up.
When you think about it, most of the good ideas came along to make sin a whole lot easier.
You think you know someone. But mostly you just know what you want to know.
To be honest, I think cell phones were invented by the devil.
Fantasy was always only a reality waiting to be switched on.
Sooner or later a black car came for everyone.
I will be waiting by candlelight in our tree house of the mind.
You'll have pie in the sky when you die.
There's only room for one hero in this story-and everyone knows the devil doesn't get to be the good guy.
It was like wondering how evil had come into the world or what happens to a person after he dies: an interesting philosophical exercise, but also curiously pointless, since evil and death happened, regardless of the why and the how and what-it-meant.
Her sanity was a fragile thing, a butterfly cupped in her hands, that she carried with her everywhere, afraid of what would happen if she let it go-or got careless and crushed it.
Well. That's helpful. We'll put an APB out on the Gingerbread Man. I'm not hopeful it'll do us much good, though. Word on the street is you can't catch him.
If you didn't have me to rake you over the coals now and then, there wouldn't be any fire in your life at all.