Jean Raspail > Quotes

“Your universe has no meaning to them. They will not try to understand. They will be tired, they will be cold, they will make a fire with your beautiful oak door...”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“Day by day, month by month, doubt by doubt, law and order became fascism; education, constraint; work, alienation; revolution, mere sport; leisure, a privilege of class; marijuana, a harmless weed; family, a stifling hothouse; affluence, oppression; success, a social disease; sex, an innocent pastime; youth, a permanent tribunal; maturity, the new senility; discipline, an attack on personality; Christianity... and the West... and white skin...”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“What was there in the world more Western than Mozart, more civilized, more perfect? No eight hundred thousand voices could drone their chant to Mozart's notes. Mozart had never written to stir the masses, but to touch the heart of each single human being, in his private self.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“Now, it's a known fact that racism comes in two forms: that practiced by whites— heinous and inexcusable, whatever its motives—and that practiced by blacks—quite justified, whatever its excesses, since it's merely the expression of a righteous revenge, and it's up to the whites to be patient and understanding.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“[The West] has not yet understood that whites, in a world become too small for its inhabitants, are now a minority and that the proliferation of other races dooms our race, my race, irretrievably to extinction in the century to come, if we hold fast to our present moral principles.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“Freedom is all or nothing. With the likes of this would-be heartrending rabble, these pseudopathetic peons beating his battering rams against the gates, Dio knew that, in time, he was sure to smash them down. When freedom expands to mean freedom of instinct and social destruction, then freedom is dead.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“On this Easter Sunday evening, eight hundred thousand living beings, and thousands of dead ones, were making their peaceful assault on the Western World. Tomorrow it would all be over. And now, rising up from the coast to the hills, to the village, to the house and its terrace, a gentle chanting, yet so very strong for all its gentleness, like a kind of singsong, droned by a chorus of eight hundred thousand voices. Long, long ago, the Crusaders had sung as they circled Jerusalem, on the eve of their last attack.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“Can a door protect a world that has lived too long?”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“Your world means nothing to them. They won’t try to understand. They’ll be tired. They’ll be cold. They’ll build a fire with your lovely oak door.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“God created man in His image— but Lafko did not know that, and after him no Kaweskar, no free Alcaluf, would ever know it, right down to the last of them who still had not learned it, down there on his lonely beach on Santa Ines Island. And yet, when he engraved his own likeness on the spearhead, Lafko was engraving God's likeness, even though he was unable to decode the message, and still less the will that had inspired him. God had so willed it — while during these same uncertain times He had showered other peoples with words and with signs, He had made bushes burn, rained down manna, and thundered upon Mount Sinai wreathed in smoke and flames.”
― Jean Raspail, Who Will Remember The People

“No one protested and the justice system itself, shaken in its impartiality and no longer knowing whether the law was made to bully society or protect it, regularly recognized attenuating circumstances for the defendants who left its hearings free men, crowned in glory. It”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“Whole countries full, bristling with poignant appeals, pleas that seemed more like threats, and not begging now for linen, but for checks to their account. And in time it got worse. Soon you saw them on television, hordes of them, churning up, dying by the thousands, and nameless butchery became a feature, a continuous show, with its masters of ceremonies and its full-time hucksters. The poor had overrun the earth. Self-reproach was the order of the day; happiness, a sign of decadence. Any pleasure? Beneath discussion.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“They know nothing about what you are, about what you represent. Your world means nothing to them. They won't try to understand. They'll be tired. They'll be cold. They'll build a fire from your lovely oak door. They'll shit all over your terrace and wipe their hands on the books in your library. They'll spit out your wine. They'll eat with their hands from the pretty pewterware.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“But soon there were too many poor. You didn't even know them. They weren't from here. Just nameless people. The whole place was overrun with them, and they were so clever! Worming their way into families, houses, towns. They forced their way in by the thousands, with an unerring knack. They got in through the letterboxes, begging for help, their dreadful photos bursting from the envelope every morning to make their demands on behalf of this or that association or charity. Everywhere, they insinuated themselves, in the newspapers, the radio, the churches, the factions- they were all you saw anymore, entire nations that no longer even needed linen but instead cheques with their name written on it, bristling heartrending appeals, appeals that almost seemed like threats. And it got worse. There they were on television, on the move, dying by the thousands, the anonymous slaughter having become a non-stop spectacle, with its professional apologists and masters of ceremony. The entire world was overrun with the poor.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“The beast had Western police and justice systems firmly in its pocket. Thereby shielded from consequences, it could now quietly devote itself to what it called "raising public awareness". Public opinion was thus once again made aware that "racism" in the cause of self-defence is the scourge of humanity.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“Jakie to szczęście, że ludzie, którzy nie znają zwątpienia, nie umierają tak łatwo!”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“You dont know my people, their filth, their fatalism, their idiotic superstitions, their atavistic resistance to change. You have no idea what you're in for if this fleet of primitives falls upon you. Everything will change in your country, which has become my own; you will lose yourself in them and with them”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“Todellinen vihollinen löytyy poikkeuksetta linjojen takaa, omasta selustasta, ei koskaan edestä eikä myöskään sisältä. Jokainen ammattisotilas tietää tämän, ja kaikissa armeijoissa kaikkina aikoina on esiintynyt kiusausta jättää muodollinen vihollinen sikseen ja kääntyä ympäri selvittämään tilit todellisen vihollisen kanssa kerta kaikkiaan!”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“W walce na falach radiowych komentarz zawsze ukrywa istotę wydarzenia, wedle zasady: słuchacz, który sądzi, że się zastanawia, słuchając swego ulubionego komentatora, staje się bardziej podatny na intelektualną manipulację niż ten, który sam wybiera tematy do refleksji.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“You represent abundance to them. Thanks to your mere presence, they've learned that it exists somewhere on Earth and that you're racked by guilt for not sharing it.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“When the time comes, he will do nothing, as if it didn't concern him. And when he suddenly finds himself once again concerned, it will be too late. He will have been led to believe that it won't cost him anything, that it is the others, those with money, who will have to pay and make room, in the name of equality, justice, universal fraternity, human rights or some other thing that no one dares question anymore.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“Człowiek wyzuty ze wszystkiego jest nieufny wobec wszelkiej pewności: doświadczenie go nauczyło, że jest z niej na zawsze wyłączony.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“Wolność sprowadzona do poziomu instynktów i antyspołecznej anarchii jest wolnością martwą.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“Man has never loved mankind as a whole-all its races, religions, cultures-but only those he recognised as his own, those of his clan, however large it might be. As for the rest, he forces his love, and it is forced from him, and when evil is done, all that remains is for him to disintegrate. In the strange war that was coming, victory would go to those who loved themselves most.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“Patrzę na pana jak na jakąś doskonałość. I dlatego pana nienawidzę.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“Mozart nunca escribió para conmover a las masas, sino para tocar el corazón de cada ser humano en su intimidad”
― Jean Raspail

“¡Gracias a Dios por el jamón suave, el pan fragante, el vino fresco! ¡Por la salud del viejo mundo y de aquellos que todavía son felices en él!”
― Jean Raspail

“And no one with enough good sense to observe that these masterly works from the brushes of children, grotesque little gnomes, were the proper concern of psychiatry, not art.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints

“Przedmioty kształtują człowieka lepiej niż gra idei.”
― Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints