• PugJesus@lemmy.world
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    5 months ago

    “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!"

    • OpenStars@discuss.online
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      5 months ago

      That sounds like liberal propaganda to me!

      (which is why I’m loving it btw:-P)

      Almost like… human lives might be worth something, ya’know?! Independently of stock prices even, perhaps?

    • MelodiousFunk@slrpnk.net
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      5 months ago

      There was a line after that, but she dropped the other tablet and shrugged it off:

      “This way to the mines, fields, and factories.”