Have all the hopes of ages come to naught? Is life no more with noble meaning fraught?
— Ada Cambridge
Let Justice, blind and halt and maimed, chastise the rebel spirit surging in my veins, let the Law deal me penalties and pains And make me hideous in my neighbours' eyes.
O what is life, if we must hold it thus as wind-blown sparks hold momentary fire?
Alone! Alone! No beacon, far or near! No chart, no compass, and no anchor stay!
