欧宝娱乐

“Racism is both overt and covert. It takes two, closely related forms: individual whites acting against individual blacks, and acts by the total white community against the black community. We call these individual racism and institutional racism. The first consists of overt acts by individuals, which cause death, injury or the violent destruction of property. This type can be recorded by television cameras; it can frequently be observed in the process of commission. The second type is less overt, far more subtle, less identifiable in terms of specific individuals committing the acts. But it is no less destructive of human life. The second type originates in the operation of established and respected forces in the society, and thus receives far less public condemnation than the first type. When white terrorists bomb a black church and kill five black children, that is an act of individual racism, widely deplored by most segments of the society. But when in that same city - Birmingham, Alabama - five hundred black babies die each year because of the lack of proper food, shelter and medical facilities, and thousands more are destroyed and maimed physically, emotionally and intellectually because of conditions of poverty and discrimination in the black community, that is a function of institutional racism. When a black family moves into a home in a white neighborhood and is stoned, burned or routed out, they are victims of an overt act of individual racism which many people will condemn - at least in words. But it is institutional racism that keeps black people locked in dilapidated slum tenements, subject to the daily prey of exploitative slumlords, merchants, loan sharks and discriminatory real estate agents. The society either pretends it does not know of this latter situation, or is in fact incapable of doing anything meaningful about it.”
― Stokely Carmichael, Black Power: The Politics of Liberation

“The train bore me away, through the monstrous scenery of slag-heaps, chimneys, piled scrap-iron, foul canals, paths of cindery mud criss-crossed by the prints of clogs. This was March, but the weather had been horribly cold and everywhere there were mounds of blackened snow. As we moved slowly through the outskirts of the town we passed row after row of little grey slum houses running at right angles to the embankment. At the back of one of the houses a young woman was kneeling on the stones, poking a stick up the leaden waste-pipe which ran from the sink inside and which I suppose was blocked. I had time to see everything about her鈥攈er sacking apron, her clumsy clogs, her arms reddened by the cold. She looked up as the train passed, and I was almost near enough to catch her eye. She had a round pale face, the usual exhausted face of the slum girl who is twenty-five and looks forty, thanks to miscarriages and drudgery; and it wore, for the second in which I saw it, the most desolate, hopeless expression I have ever-seen. It struck me then that we are mistaken when we say that 鈥業t isn鈥檛 the same for them as it would be for us,鈥� and that people bred in the slums can imagine nothing but the slums. For what I saw in her face was not the ignorant suffering of an animal. She knew well enough what was happening to her鈥攗nderstood as well as I did how dreadful a destiny it was to be kneeling there in the bitter cold, on the slimy stones of a slum backyard, poking a stick up a foul drain-pipe.”
― George Orwell, The Road to Wigan Pier

“When you have half of Caironese in slums, when you don't have clean water, when you don't have a sewer system, when you don't have electricity, and on top of that you live under one of the most repressive regimes right now... Well, put all that together, and it's a ticking bomb. It's not of a question of threat; it is question of looking around at the present environment and making a rational prognosis.”
― Mohamed ElBaradei

“Look, this boy's been kicked around all his life. You know-living in a slum, his mother dead since he was nine. He spent a year and a half in an orphanage while his father served a jail term for forgery. That's not a very good head start. He's had a pretty terrible sixteen years. I think maybe we owe him a few words. That's all.”
― Reginald Rose, Twelve Angry Men

“...any one who has been to an English public school will always feel comparatively at home in prison. It is the people brought up in the gay intimacy of the slums, Paul learned, who find prison so soul destroying.”
― Evelyn Waugh, Decline and Fall

“Whereas the slums in Hamburg are the slums of its sailors, Berlin is a big slum.”
― Kathy Acker, Eurydice in the Underworld

“I was born in a slum, but the slum wasn't born in me.”
― Jesse Jackson

“You can understand how the same word used to describe Gypsies in Western Europe came to also describe the poor artists of the Parisian slums”
― Karl Wiggins, Wrong Planet - Searching for your Tribe

“With no small amount of trepidation, we walked alone past a colony of black-faced monkeys we鈥檇 been told were extremely dangerous. We avoided eye contact and certainly didn鈥檛 take pictures. And dearly wished our old Sherpa bag-carrying matey was nearby. We visited Gandhi鈥檚 tomb. We saw saris being printed and hand-knotted carpets being fabricated and negotiated a decent price for a small hand-crafted rug of Mughal design that, as long as we keep the certificate of authenticity safe, should appreciated in value. We witnessed poverty beyond poverty, with 鈥榰ntouchables鈥� so poor that they are actually outside the caste system, and who can鈥檛 even afford to live in the unsanitary slums described as 'unfit for human habitation.”
― Karl Wiggins, Wrong Planet - Searching for your Tribe

“Yes, Manila had its slums; one saw them on the drive from the airport: vast districts of men in dirty white undershirts lounging idly in front of auto-repair shops 鈥� like a poorer version of the 1950s America depicted in such films as Grease.”
― Mohsin Hamid, The Reluctant Fundamentalist

“Unless we are able to bridge the gap between the rich and the poor, the GDP and other facts and figures would be merely decorative and of little significance.”
― Shivanshu K. Srivastava

“She fell on the bread and cheese as if she were a lioness. Did lions eat cheese? He didn鈥檛 know. He knew Mrs Prater鈥檚 kitten ate cheese. He ate anything. Poor bloody animal. Still, he was a slum cat, no reason why his life should be better than a humans' sad ruddy existence.”
― Fusty Luggs, Jack the Ripper: The Long Arm of the Law

“We have torn down the worst slums. The natural meeting-points for the lumpenproletariat have been eliminated, converted into pleasant, dull, clean blocks for dull, clean, adapted families. In the absence of ghettos for the losers, they gather around the centres of pride. If Harlem and its equivalents did not exist, they would gather outside the Rockefeller Center.”
― Nils Christie, Limits to Pain: The Role of Punishment in Penal Policy

“And I saw the roof of the shack in Hanoi where my mother lived. Sheet metal patched together with tar paper. On rainy days, the roof leaked. In the heat of summer, the acrid smell of tar was overpowering, nauseating. All around, the gutters, gurgling under slabs of cement, flowed from one house to the next. Children played in this filthy black water, sailing their little white paper boats. The few mangy patches of grass were at the foot of the wall where men drunk on too much beer came to relieve themselves. The place reeked of urine. This was my street. I had grown up here.”
― D瓢啤ng Thu H瓢啤ng, Paradise of the Blind

“Nothing was gorgeous in Five Points. The sun might have been shining, and perhaps somewhere else in the city it was a pleasant morning. Cool gray March. Dewy and rain-washed. Perhaps somewhere else. But Little Waters Street, which always smelled scummy and dead--reeking sewage fro Collect Pond and the hot-sick stench of tanners, of bone mills, of wood rot and animal rot--stank especially today after last night's rain like a wet, wormy dog.”
― Allie Ray, Suffering Fools

“Six people live here?"
"Well. Five and the baby--"
Farkas snorted. "A baby counts for two."
"Bloody hell; seven, then, by your wonky math.”
― Allie Ray, Suffering Fools