"No man is an iland, intire of it selfe; every
man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a clod bee
washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie
were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any
mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And
therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for
thee...."
No comments:
Post a Comment