I saw it from that hidden, silent place
Where the old wood half shuts the meadow in.
It shone through all the sunset’s glories – thin
At first, but with a slowly brightening face.
Night came, and that lone beacon, amber-hued,
Beat on my sight as never it did of old;
The evening star – but grown a thousandfold
More haunting in this hush and solitude.

It traced strange pictures on the quivering air –
Half-memories that had always filled my eyes –
Vast towers and gardens; curious seas and skies
Of some dim life – I never could tell where.
But I knew that through the cosmic dome
Those rays were calling from my far, lost home.

H.P. Lovecraft

We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.

Viktor Frankl

I ask you to pass through life at my side—to be my second self, and best earthly companion.

Charlotte Bronte

What wings are to a bird, and sails to a ship, so is prayer to the soul.

Corrie Ten Boom

The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world.

Herman Hesse