Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Peasants. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Peasants Quotes And Sayings by 89 Authors including Islom Karimov,Wallace Stevens,Niccolo Machiavelli,William Kristol,Edward Jenks for you to enjoy and share.
With the advent of spring and beginning of the new harvest season the creators of abundance, our peasants, come out to the fields to sow with good aspirations and hopes.
Success as a result of industry is a peasant's ideal.
The peasant wants only to be left alone to prosper in peace.
[Among conservatives] there's been too much pseudo-populism, almost too much concern and attention for, quote, 'the people' ... After all, we conservatives are on the side of the lords and barons ... We ... are pulling up the drawbridge against the peasants.
But we remember that it was just precisely in the reign of Richard II that the Peasants' War, following upon the changes wrought by the visitations of the Great Plague, virtually destroyed serfdom as a personal status.
When I want to find the vanguard of the people I look to the uneasy dreams of an aristocracy and find what they dread most.
Miserable mortals who like leaves at one moment flame with life eating the produce of the land and at another moment weakly perish.
The dominant mood of contemporary American culture is the self-celebration of the peasantry.
Hundreds of thousands and millions of wage slaves of capital and peasants downtrodden by the serf-owners are going to the slaughter for the dynastic interests of a handful of crowned brigands, for the profits of the bourgeoisie in its drive to plunder foreign lands.
I mean, my people were very, very simple. They were peasant people, you know?
The civilization and justice of bourgeois order comes out in its lurid light whenever the slaves and drudges of that order rise against their masters.
grievances of the lowest classes mingled with
What is nobler than a man wresting and wringing his bread from the stubborn soil by the sweat of his brow and the break of his back for his wife and children!
Let the meek inherit the earth
they have it coming to them.
Before the Porcelain Throne The Unrest that
Tis Fate that flings the dice,
And as she flings
Of kings makes peasants,
And of peasants kings.
For today the petty people have become lord and master: they all preach submission and acquiescence and prudence and diligence and consideration and the long et cetera of petty virtues.
Envy of prosperity, confirmers of scourge, desperate of hope. They have a victim in every certain way, a mediator to every heart, and a tear in every complaint.
The revolution in Russia was victorious with the help of the poor peasants. This should always be borne in mind here in Western Europe and all the world over. But the workers in Western Europe stand alone: this should never be forgotten in Russia.
Men of England! who inheritRights that cost your sires their blood.
Often the masses are plundered and do not know it.
Apparently, what differentiates the mere rich from the filthy rich is a servant who treats you like dirt.
The greatest hurdle one must overcome along the journey from peasantry to nobility is a commitment to reading and reflection. For nothing distinguishes the nobleman from the peasant more than knowledge and understanding.
Vicar Sayeedi - Author
The movements which work revolutions in the world are born out of the dreams and visions in a peasant's heart on the hillside.
There is a great number of noblemen among you that are themselves as idle as drones, that subsist on other men's labour, on the labour of their tenants, whom, to raise their revenues, they pare to the quick.
The royalty take and take and it never seems to be enough for them. They steal girls to make their babies, boys to protect them, or seduce them, or serve them. But we are not objects. We are not the latest fashion or the most expensive prize. We are people. And I'm going to help make them see that.
They (Medievalists) are soft, dreamy people who find life too hard for them here and get lost in an ideal world of the past that never really existed.
Who are the oppressors? The few: the King, the capitalist, and a handful of other overseers and superintendents. Who are the oppressed? The many: the nations of the earth; the valuable personages; the workers; they that make the bread that the soft-handed and idle eat.
We think. We are not peasants. We are mechanics. But even the peasants know better than to believe in a war. Everybody hates war.
There is a class that control a country that is stupid and down not realise anything and never can. That is why we have this war.
Also they make money out of it.
The countryside they
If the poor ever feel poor as the rich do, we will have a most bloody revolution.
the Poor Men of Lyons,
I don't know where being a servant came into disrepute. It is the refuge of a philosopher, the food of the lazy, and, properly carried out, it is a position of power, even of love.
Here are thieves and robbers and tribunals: and they that are called tyrants, who deem that they have after a fashion power over us, because of the miserable body and what appertains to it. Let us show them that they have power over none.
If you are not their slaves, you are rebels.
The world is divided between peasants and kings, but the truth is everybody's looking for the same thing.
Bowen looked nervously about for peasants. It would be unendurable if they all turned out to be full of instinctive wisdom and natural good manners and unself-conscious grace and a deep, articulate understanding of death.
Fearing servility, people become servile.
Respectable people... What bastards!
These poor wretches were stolen from their homes, carried to a strange country, and sold to servitude, from which they sought to escape on the first occasion which offered.
The poor peasant here hives under conditions quite different from those of Russia. Though often terrible, they are not as appalling as they were there.
Some bosses are so greedy (for themselves only) they forget underlings are not thirteenth-century peasants who can be satisfied with a glass of mead and three festivals a year.
Nothing is more disgusting than the majority: because it consists of a few powerful predecessors, of rogues who adapt themselves, of weak who assimilate themselves, and the masses who imitate without knowing at all what they want.
There is not one of us that would not be worse than kings, if so continually corrupted as they are with a sort of vermin called flatterers.
A worthless servant is more popular than his master! This means that the apocalypse mentioned in the Bible is near at hand!
The peasants of all lands recognize power and they salute it, whether it's good or evil.
In medieval Europe, aristocrats spent their money carelessly on extravagant luxuries, whereas peasants lived frugally, minding every penny. Today, the tables have turned. The rich take great care managing their assets and investments, while the less well-heeled go into debt buying cars and
Servitude of any sort is distasteful to all men, but especially objectionable is subjection to others in the case of those who ought to rule.
This is war. And victory is the only nobility.
Throw away respect,
Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty;
For you have but mistook me all this while.
I live with bread, like you; feel want,
Taste grief, need friends. Subjected thus,
How can you say to me I am king?
And round about there is a rabble
Of the filthy, sturdy, unkillable infants of the very poor.
They shall inherit the earth.
They were beaten to start with. They were beaten when they took them from their farms and put them in the army. That is why the peasant has wisdom, because he is defeated from the start. Put him in power and see how wise he is.
a small number of wealthy landowners has dominated a large population of landless and small-holding peasants.
This is servitude, To serve the unwise.
Sedition is bred in the lap of luxury and its chosen emissaries are the beggared spendthrift and the impoverished libertine.
You peasant swain! You whoreson malt-horse drudge!
Arrogance. The number one cause of death among both peasant and king. Beware its sharp blade. More times than not, it injures the one who wields it most of all.
They're thinking of turning the peasant into an educated man. Why, first of all they should make him a good and prosperous farmer and then he'll learn all that is necessary for him to know.
you are poor, rude, immoral, unintelligent, impoverished, bitter, stubborn, and a blight upon your village and my kingdom.
For the first time the peasant has seen real freedom - freedom to eat his bread, freedom from starvation.
The revolution in Russia was terrible for the proletariat in the long years of its development and it is terrible now, after the victory. But at the actual time of revolution it was easy, and this was due to the peasants.
Workers of the world awaken. Break your chains, demand your rights.
All the wealth you make is taken, by exploiting parasites.
Shall you kneel in deep submission from your cradle to your grave?
Is the height of your ambition to be a good and willing slave?
The middle class, that prisoner of the barbarian 20th century.
Strip the proud nobility of their bloated estates, reduce them to a level with plain republicans, send forth to labor, and teach their children to enter the workshops or handle the plow, and you will thus humble proud traitors.
Thieves, Heretics, and Whores
There is a serious tendency toward capitalism among the well-to-do peasants.
The humblest peasant is as free in the sight of God as the proudest monarch that ever swayed a sceptre. Liberty is a spirit sent from God and like its great Author is no respecter of persons.
This complete ignorance of the realities, this innocent view of mankind, is what, in my opinion, constitutes the truly aristocratic. For
I found myself back in the sepulchral city resenting the sight of people hurrying through the streets to filch a little money from each other, to devour their infamous cookery, to gulp their unwholesome beer, to dream their insignificant and silly dreams. They trespassed upon my thoughts.
Take away the people's bread and you get discontent; take away their money and you get anger, but take away their heroes and you get revolution.
Stupid, fragile mortals.
Ay, down to the dust with them, slaves as they are! From this hour let the blood in their dastardly veins, That shrunk at the first touch of Liberty's war, Be wasted for tyrants, or stagnate in chains.
Men in England are ruled, at this minute by the clock, by brutes who refuse them bread, by liars who refuse them news, and by fools who cannot govern, and therefore wish to enslave.
Imitators are but a servile kind of cattle.
They keep you doped with religion, and sex, and T.V.
And you think you're so clever and classless and free
But you're still fucking peasants as far as I can see
Some, I verily believe, delight to be slave-men; it is a joy to them, and they would not change their condition; not only miserable village wretches, but men in good position, well-to-do sycophants.
And the simple people are trash. A herd of sheep that are good for shearing, but sometimes it's more profitable to slaughter them.
The poorest people you meet are the discontent.
O Grub Street! how do I bemoan thee, whose graceless children scorn to own thee! . Yet thou hast greater cause to be ashamed of them, than they of thee.
Those, who from an immoderate and false self-love, study to keep their humanity under, always take care, for their own sakes, to represent poverty to themselves, as something ridiculous, mean, and contemptible.
How starved they seemed for ordinary kindness
Servility always curdles into rage in the end.
A silent, unavoidable revolution is taking place in society, a revolution THAT CARES AS LITTLE ABOUT THE HUMAN LIVES IT DESTROYS as an earthquake cares about the houses it ravages. Classes and RACES THAT ARE TOO WEAK to dominate the new conditions of existence WILL BE DEFEATED.
You build a thing of beauty, and then the peasants storm the castle, hooting and chanting and calling you a heretic.
O, how wretched is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors.
The only people I really hate are servants. They're not really human beings at all.
Peace to the shacks! War on the palaces!
Each step in the development of the bourgeoisie was accompanied by a corresponding political advance in that class. An oppressed class under the sway of the feudal nobility, an armed and self-governing association of medieval commune: here independent urban republic (as
No Bolshevik, no Communist, no intelligent socialist has ever entertained the idea of violence against the middle peasants. All socialists have always spoken of agreement with them and of
their gradual and voluntary transition to socialism.
The bourgeoisie has stripped of its halo every occupation hitherto honoured and looked up to with reverent awe. It has converted the physician, the lawyer, the priest, the poet, the man of science, into its paid wage labourers.
Oh! If those selfish men, who are the cause of all one's misery, only knew what their poor slaves go through! What suffering, what humiliation to the delicate feelings of a poor woman, above all a young one, especially with those nasty doctors.
I come from a class which used to be called the gentry - which is nowadays mistakenly used to include the nobility, but in fact is not. The gentry was essentially the untitled landowning class.
What are a handful of reasonable men against a crowd with stones in their hands?
You've never been a peasant in medieval France, Harry," Bob said. "Life was hard for those people. Never enough food, shelter, medicine. If you could give yourself a fur coat and the ability to go out and hunt your own meat, you would have jumped at the chance, too.
Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old, When all our fathers worshipp'd stocks and stones.
This revolution - will it be a living?'
'We must hope so. Look, I have to go, I'm visiting a client. He's going to be hanged tomorrow.'
'Is that usual?'
'Oh, they always hang my clients. Even in property and matrimonial cases.
The stupider the peasant, the better the horse understands him.
What whip lashed them to their knees in shame and submission? The worship of the word We.
Tumbrils of the Revolution. But that Woodman and that Farmer,
I knew, as every peasant does, that land can never be truly owned. We are the keepers of the soil, the curators of trees.