Emma Lazarus Quotes

Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.

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.

Until we are all free, we are none of us free.

Life's sharpest rapture is surcease of pain.

Jews are the intensive form of any nationality whose language and customs they adopt.