Woe is me! Bitter is me! For what is my life? Why didn't the ship go under and drown me before I came to America?
In America, money takes the place of God.
Without comprehension, the immigrant would forever remain shut-a stranger in America. Until America can release the heart as well as train the hand of the immigrant, he would forever remain driven back upon himself, corroded by the very richness of the unused gifts within his soul.