Socialism is a garden, where every plant gets its plot. And a garden can be very pretty, even productive, after a fashion. But the garden exists for the gardener. Nobody asks what the rose bush wants; nobody cares if the carrot has rights; nobody worries about the weeds. A garden is very much about selecting some to thrive and some to die.
Liberty is a jungle, and men have a natural hatred of jungles. You have to protect them, or they’ll be eaten up by other schemes. But in the jungle every plant gets a chance. Only in the woods do the trees have rights.