"I prefer empty cages, Sabina, until I find a unique bird I once saw in my dreams."

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This is a marvel of the universe: To fling a thought across a stretch of sky-- Some weighty message, or a yearning cry, It matters not; the elements rehearse Man's urgent utterance, and his words traverse The spacious heav'ns like homing birds that fly Unswervingly, until, upreached on high, A quickened hand plucks off the message terse.

— Josephine Preston Peabody