Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
MOTHER OF EXILES. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "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-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
It's funny I always thought THIS^ was what Made America Great.
We'll take anyone you don't want. Give us all the rejects of the civilized world. Give us all your "losers." And we'll give them a chance to show you what they're really made of.
Steel and Heart.
Brawn and Brain.
Daring and Hope.
Pure, Unbridled, Human Potential.
I believe we can trust people to be free.
I want them here. I want all the people that no one else wants. I want all the people who've had enough. People who've had enough are capable of amazing things.
