Life's sharpest rapture is surcease of pain.

Life's sharpest rapture is surcease of pain.

Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore, send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me: I lift my lamp beside the golden door.

I am never going to write for the sake of writing.

Until we are all free, we are none of us free.

Still ours the dance, the feast, the glorious Psalm, The mystic lights of emblem, and the Word.

The Jewish problem is as old as history, and assumes in each age a new form. The life or death of millions of human beings hangs upon its solution; its agitation revives the fiercest passions for good and for evil that inflame the human breast.