The old wanderlust had gotten into his blood, the joy of the unbound life, the joy of seeking, of hoping without limit.
Upton SinclairCan you not see that the task is your task - yours to dream, yours to resolve, yours to execute?
Upton Sinclair...Nobody rose in Packingtown by doing good work. You could lay that down for a rule—if you met a man who was rising in Packingtown, you met a knave. That man who had been sent to Jurgis' father by the boss, he would rise; the man who told tales and spied upon his fellows would rise; but the man who minded his own business and did his work—why, they would "speed him up" till they had worn him out, and then they would throw him into the gutter.
Upton SinclairThey use everything about the hog except the squeal.
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