The tyrant claims freedom to kill freedom, and yet keep it for himself.

At the immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its limits in joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable.

You have made me known to friends whom I knew not. You have given me seats in homes not my own. You have brought the distant near and made a brother of the stranger... When one knows You, then there is no alien, and no door is shut.

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high Where knowledge is free.

The weak can be terrible because they try furiously to appear strong.

And it shall be my endeavour to reveal thee in my actions, knowing it is thy power gives me strength to act.

Memory, the priestess, kills the present and offers its heart to the shrine of the dead past.