Julia Lundberg

“Snow was falling, and a soft white blanket seemed to protect the earth from the cold wind that howled through the valley. S. 124”
― N.H. Kleinbaum, Dead Poets Society

“They kissed, soft and warm, under the frozen moon. S. 150”
― N.H. Kleinbaum, Dead Poets Society

“We are the music makers
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lonely sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;
World losers and world forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:

Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world, forever it seems.
With wonderful deathless Ditties
We build up with world's great cities,
And out of a fabulous story
We fashion an empire's glory:

One man with a dream, at pleasure
Shall go forth and conquer a crown;
And three with a new son's measure
Can trample an empire down.
We in the ages lying,
In the buried past of the earth,
Built Nineveh with our sighing,
And Babel itself with our mirth

And o'erthrew them with prophesying
To the old of the new world's worth;
For each age is a dream that is dying,
Or one that is coming to birth
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul!

- W.E. Henley, s. 55-56”
― N.H. Kleinbaum, Dead Poets Society

“One reads poetry because he is a member of the human race, and the human race is filled with passion! Medicine, law, banking - these are necessary to sustain life. But poetry, romance, love, beauty? These are what we stay alive for! (s. 41)”
― N.H. Kleinbaum, Dead Poets Society