Not exactly on point, but I am reminded of a poem by W.B. Yeats:
"INDIGNANT at the fumbling wits, the obscure spite
Of our old Paudeen in his shop, I stumbled blind
Among the stones and thorn trees, under morning light;
Until a curlew cried and in the luminous wind
A curlew answered; and suddenly thereupon I thought
That on the lonely height where all are in God’s eye,
There cannot be, confusion of our sound forgot,
A single soul that lacks a sweet crystaline cry."
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| "I am an American fighting man. I serve in the forces guarding our country and our way of life. I am prepared to give my life in their defense." |