"But he falls not as he did once
From his height into swells:
-"What matters thee, clod of dust, if
'Tis me or some one else?
You live in your sphere's narrowness
And luck rules over you -
But in my steady world I feel
Eternal, cold and true!"
by Mihai Eminescu
"No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee."
by John Donne