Without The Presence Of Class Warfare, Trade

Modern Society, Which, Soon After Its Birth, Pulled Plutus By The Hair Of His Head From The Bowels Of The Earth, Greets Gold As Its Holy Grail, As The Glittering Incarnation Of The Very Principle Of Its Own Life.

It's Possible That I Shall Make An Ass Of Myself. But In That Case One Can Always Get Out Of It With A Little Dialectic. I Have, Of Course, So Worded My Proposition As To Be Right Either Way.

It Appears Then, That Capitalist Production Comprises Conditions Independent Of Good Or Bad Will, Conditions Which Permit The Working-class To Enjoy That Relative Prosperity Only Momentarily, And At That Always Only As The Harbinger Of A Coming Crisis.

Modern Bourgeois Society With Its Relations Of Production, Of Exchange, And Of Property, A Society That Has Conjured Up Such Gigantic Means Of Production And Of Exchange, Is Like The Sorcerer, Who Is No Longer Able To Control The Powers Of The Nether World Whom He Has Called Up By His Spells.

Philosophy Stands In The Same Relation To The Study Of The Actual World As Masturbation To Sexual Love.