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“They, too, carry the source within them. But for their children, cast into a windblown century without God, where is there to be but alone and unseen, anonymous in the crowd? Who will carry us back to a place that lives only in the vast imaginary? 'Do you not see how a caged bird, oh youth, / Breaks into song when it recalls its ancestral home?” — Claire Messud
They, too, carry the source within them. But for their children, cast into a windblown century without God, where is there to be but alone and unseen, anonymous in the crowd? Who will carry us back to a place that lives only in the vast imaginary? 'Do you not see how a caged bird, oh youth, / Breaks into song when it recalls its ancestral home?