Quotes About Ownership

You shall have thousands of gold pieces; - thousands of thousands - millions - mountains of gold: where will you keep them?

Holland's mom would get pissed. She owns Mom's Cafe." "She sure doesn't need the competition," Virgil said. "I ate the worst cheeseburger of my life there about five minutes ago." Skinner winced, and said, "I wouldn't wander too far from a toilet. They got three cooks there; we call them Hepatitis A, B, and C. That burger's gonna hit the bottom of the bucket in one piece, if you know what I mean.

I glared at the man. You know, Dr. Russell, most doctors would have found a more tactful way to break the news. I'm sorry, Mr. Perry, Dr. Russell said. I don't want to seem unconcerned. But it's really not a problem. Even on Earth, testicular cancer is easily treatable, particularly in the early stages, which is the case here. At the very worst, you'd lose the testicle, but that's not a significant setback. Unless you happen to own the testicle, I growled.

Because this is what I learned about myself that first day: My body is my body. I don't want anyone else in it. I don't want someone else controlling it, or trying to. It's my own little space in the world and the only space I have. And to have someone else in it, doing anything to it, sends me into a panic.

Libertarians secretly worried that ultimately someone will figure out the whole of their political philosophy boils down to "Get Off My Property." News flash: This is not really a big secret to the rest of us.   I

The quality of owning freezes you forever in I, and cuts you off forever from the we.

Don't you dare take the lazy way. It's too easy to excuse yourself because of your ancestry. Don't let me catch you doing it! Now -- look close at me so you will remember. Whatever you do, it will be you who do.

We could live offa the fatta the lan'.

I ought to of shot that dog myself, George. I shouldn't ought to of let no stranger shoot my dog.

This is the thing to bomb. This is the beginning—from I to we. If you who own the things people must have could understand this, you might preserve yourself. If you could separate causes from results, if you could know that Paine, Marx, Jefferson, Lenin were results, not causes, you might survive. But that you cannot know. For the quality of owning freezes you forever into I, and cuts you off forever from the we.

Our people are good people, our people are kind people. Pray God someday kind people won't all be poor. Pray God someday a kid can eat. And the associations of owners know that some day the praying would stop. And there's the end.

Everybody wants a little bit of land, not much. Jus' som'thin' that was his. Som'thin' he could live on and there couldn't nobody throw him off of it.

but it's our land. We measured it and broke it up. We were born on it, and we got killed on it, died on it. Even if it's no good, it's still ours. That's what makes it ours- being born on it, working it, dying on it. That makes ownership, not a paper with numbers on it.

That's what makes it ours-being born on it, working on it, dying on it. That makes ownership, not a paper with numbers on it.

The passion to produce is very great. One man, who has not yet been assigned his little garden plot, is hopefully watering a jimson weed simply to have something of his own growing.

For the quality of owning freezes you forever into "I," and cuts you off forever from the "we.

They had long ago found out that one could not be an owner unless one were cold.

My great complaint is that the only possession I carry about with me is a bag of losses. I am the owner solely of the memory of things I used to have. Perhaps it is well--for I seem to love them more now that I have them not.

Fear the time when the bombs stopped falling while the bombers live - for every bomb is proof that the spirit has not died. And fear the time when the strikes stop while the great owners live - for every little beaten strike is proof that the step is being taken.

Sure, cried the tenant men, but it's our land. We measured it and broke it up. We were born on it, and we got killed on it, died on it. Even if it's no good, it's still ours. That's what makes it ours-being born on it, working it, dying on it.

The great owners, striking at the immediate thing ... not knowing these things are results, not causes.

If a bank or a finance company owned the land, the owner man said, The Bank—or the Company—needs—wants—insists—must have—as though the Bank or the Company were a monster, with thought and feeling, which had ensnared them. These last would take no responsibility for the banks or the companies because they were men and slaves, while the banks were machines and masters all at the same time.

For how can a man without property know the ache of ownership?

A crop raised--why, that makes ownership. Land hoed and the carrots eaten--a man might fight for land he's taken food from. Get him off quick! He'll think he owns it. He might even die fighting for the little plot among the Jimson weed.