Life felt dark as an international researcher in the U.S., but I'm finding hope (science.org) 1 points by EA-3167 4d ago ↗ HN
[–] solyin 4d ago ↗ > Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,> With conquering limbs astride from land to land;> Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch,> whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles.> From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome;> her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.> “Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she With silent lips.> “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-tost to me,> I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”-The New Colossus (1883) by American poet Emma Lazarus.
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[ 0.24 ms ] story [ 7.7 ms ] thread> With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
> Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch,
> whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles.
> From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome;
> her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
> “Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she With silent lips.
> “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-tost to me,
> I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
-The New Colossus (1883) by American poet Emma Lazarus.