“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”
―
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”
―
“Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.”
― Slaughterhouse-Five
― Slaughterhouse-Five
Kayoc’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Kayoc’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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