Is this the hill? is this the kirk? Is this mine own countree?

Like one that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round walks on, And turns no more his head; Because he knows, a frightful …

I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech; That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me: To him my tale I teac…

The man hath penance done, And penance more will do.

The long and winding road that leads to your door Will never disappear, I've seen that road before it always leads me here, Leads me to your door.

'I see the whole world open before me; the only place that remains sealed off is Poland, and suddenly I feel the atmosphere so close about me that at times it …

What we do belongs to what we are; and what we are is what becomes of us.