“I AM RESTLESS AM restless. I am athirst for far-away things.My soul goes out in a longing to touch the skirt of the dim distance.O Great Beyond, O the keen call of thy flute!I forget, I ever forget, that I have no wings to fly, that I am bound in this spot evermore. I am eager and wakeful, I am a stranger in a strange land.Thy breath comes to me whispering an impossible hope.Thy tongue is known to my heart as its very own.O Far-to-seek, O the keen call of thy flute!I forget, I ever forget, that I know not the way, that I have not the winged horse. I am listless, I am a wanderer in my heart.In the sunny haze of the languid hours, what vast vision of thine takes shape in the blue of the sky!O Farthest end, O the keen call of thy flute!I forget, I ever forget, that the gates are shut everywhere in the house where I dwell alone!”
“If I am right, Thy grace impartStill in the right to stay;If I am wrong, O, teach my heartTo find that better way!”
“O, that he were here to write me down an ass! But, masters, remember, that I am an ass; though it be not written down, yet forget not that I am an ass.”
“And... as long as they need me, it's easier to forget that I am alone.”
“Sometimes, I think Bill forgets that I am sixteen. But I am very happy that he does.”
“How am I supposed to forget you?” Helen asked, laughing weakly at such a silly suggestion. “You’re too big a part of me. I’d have to forget who I am to forget you.”