I didn’t want to be in the teeming mass of the working class.[…] I didn’t want to live and die in the same place with only a week at the seaside in between. I dreamed...

Der feste Beruf auf Lebenszeit […] ist ein Produkt der Industrialisierung.

In proportion as the machine is improved and performs man’s work with an ever increasing rapidity and exactness, the labourer, instead of prolonging his former rest times, redoubles his ardour, as if he wished to...

I’m goin past factories. Boxes of metal with people inside. Souls bein ripped apart.

When you took a man’s job away from him, his ability to feed and clothe his family, that man was going to get angry.

With an evermore increase of industrialisation machine stops being merely a tool, develops a life of its own and imposes its rhythm onto human. Operating it he moves mechanically, becomes part of the machine.