But my faith in Socialism (to which I think I can say my entire life bears testimony) has remained more alive than ever in me. In its essence, it has gone back to what it was when I first revolted against the old social order; a refusal to admit the existence of destiny, an extension of the ethical impulse from the restricted individual and family sphere to the whole domain of human activity, a need for effective brotherhood, an affirmation of the superiority of the human person over all the economic and social mechanisms which oppress him. As the years have gone by, there has been added to this an intuition of man’s dignity and a feeling of reverence for that which in man’s dignity and a feeling of reverence for that which in man is always trying to outdistance itself, and lies at the root of his eternal disquiet. But I do not think that this kind of Socialism is in any way peculiar to me. The “mad truths” recorded above are older than Marxism; toward the second half of the last century they took refuge in the workers’ movement born of industrial capitalism, and continue to remain one of its most enduring founts of inspiration.
Ignazio Silone in The God That Failed, 101-102.