Thomas Carlyle
I know the measure of a man.
It's in the bagels brought to a hot waiting room. It's in the magic of neighbors to part pesky waters. It's in conversation in uncomfortable chairs meant to amuse and distract. In small strokes across a misshapen gown, in miracles sown from miles on foot, in sleep missed and tears worn, in words, in such prayers that provide grace in the offerings of the everyday.
