Though my father was poor and had nothing, the Torah, the poetry of prophets, was his daily bread.

The only compensation for the artist is the chance to feed hungry hearts.

I'm one of the millions of immigrant children, children of loneliness, wandering between worlds that are at once too old and too new to live in.

When I only begin to read, I forget I'm on this world. It lifts me on wings with high thoughts.

Like all people who have nothing, I lived on dreams.

Poor people who had escaped from poverty as I had, feared it, hated it and fled from it all their lives. Those born rich could afford to be touched by it.

Give a beggar a dime and he'll bless you. Give him a dollar and he'll curse you for withholding the rest of your fortune. Poverty is a bag with a hole at the bottom.