I hate the unfairness of injustice. Anybody who thinks they are

"I hate the unfairness of injustice. Anybody who thinks they are better than others or 'chosen' or feel they have an entitlement... be it through monarchy, government or money. I think we are all born the same. We are entitled to an equal shot at life." — Liam Cunningham

Hear these words, children of earth and time, and mark their truth. Liam Cunningham, a man who has walked both humble roads and bright stages, speaks not as an actor of fame, but as a witness to the ages-old wound of humanity: injustice. His words burn with the fire of conscience, for they strike at the false thrones men build in their hearts—the thrones of entitlement, of imagined superiority, of privilege dressed as destiny. He declares, in the voice of every honest soul, that he hates not men, but the unfairness of injustice itself—the poison that seeps into the world whenever one human being dares to think themselves born above another.

From the dawn of history, the shadow of entitlement has walked beside the light of civilization. Kings proclaimed themselves chosen by the gods, lords claimed divine right over land and lives, and the rich built walls of gold to keep the poor in servitude. Yet time and again, the spirit of truth rose to defy them. The prophets, the poets, the rebels—they all cried that we are born the same, shaped from the same clay, breathing the same air, destined for the same dust. Cunningham’s words are an echo of that eternal cry, a reminder that no crown, no title, no coin can alter the sacred equality with which life begins.

Consider, then, the tale of the French Revolution, when a nation, long shackled under the weight of monarchy and privilege, rose in furious unison. The peasants and the poor, weary of hunger and mockery, took up their cause against those who feasted while others starved. Their cry—Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité—was not born of envy but of justice. They sought not to trade one tyranny for another, but to tear down the lie that birth grants worth. For centuries, the idea of the “chosen few” had ruled, but the people remembered a deeper truth: that no one is chosen above another, save by the content of their heart and the work of their hands.

Cunningham’s words also speak to the present age, where new thrones have risen—the thrones of wealth and power. Now it is not kings who reign, but corporations; not monarchs who rule, but money. There are still those who believe they are entitled—not by bloodline, but by fortune—to the best of the world while others labor unseen. And yet, beneath their towers of glass, the same truth beats on: a child born in a palace and a child born in poverty share the same cry, the same hope, the same right to live freely and fully. The difference lies not in destiny, but in opportunity—and it is the mark of a just people to make those opportunities equal.

There is wisdom, too, in the humility of this quote. Cunningham does not call for hatred of the powerful, nor for vengeance against the rich; he calls for fairness—for a restoration of balance. He reminds us that equality is not sameness, but dignity. Every man and woman must walk their own path, but the road must not be blocked by walls built from arrogance and greed. A just world is not one where all are identical, but one where each is free to rise by merit, not chained by circumstance. To believe otherwise is to betray the very essence of humanity.

So let these words be a mirror for every generation. Look into it, and see whether you walk as one who lifts others or one who stands upon them. Do you believe your comfort was earned by worth, or by chance? Do you see others as lesser, or as fellow travelers in the same brief and sacred life? Remember that entitlement blinds, but empathy opens the eyes. The great souls of history—Gandhi, Mandela, Lincoln—did not rise above others; they walked among them, and by doing so, lifted all.

The lesson, then, is simple yet eternal: reject the illusion of superiority. Treat no one as lesser, and accept no system that builds itself upon the suffering of the weak. Work to build a world where each child, no matter where they are born, may stand with head unbowed and spirit unbroken. Speak against arrogance wherever it hides—whether in crowns or corporations. For as Cunningham reminds us, we are all born the same, and we all deserve an equal shot at life. Let that truth guide your heart, your hands, and your voice, until justice is no longer a dream, but the air we all breathe together.