He didn't even wait to thank me.

Life's like a cage; we beat the bars,
We bruise our breasts, we struggle vainly;
Up to the glory of the stars
We strain with flutterings ungainly.
And then -- God opens wide the door;
Our wondrous wings are arched for flying;
We poise, we part, we sing, we soar . . .
Light, freedom, love. . . . Fools call it -- Dying.




Yes, that wretched little bird haunted me. I had to let it go.
Since I have seized my own liberty I am a fanatic for freedom.
It is now a year ago I launched on my great adventure. I have had hard times,
been hungry, cold, weary. I have worked harder than ever I did
and discouragement has slapped me on the face. Yet the year has been
the happiest of my life.

And all because I am free. By reason of filthy money no one can say to me:
Do this, or do that. "Master" doesn't exist in my vocabulary.
I can look any man in the face and tell him to go to the devil.
I belong to myself. I am not for sale. It's glorious to feel like that.
It sweetens the dry crust and warms the heart in the icy wind.
For that I will hunger and go threadbare; for that I will live austerely
and deny myself all pleasure. After health, the best thing in life
is freedom.