Occupation: Novelist Birth: 1880 Death: November 21, 1970
Woe is me! Bitter is me! For what is my life? Why didn't the ship go under and drown me before I came to America?.
In America, money takes the place of God..
Without comprehension, the immigrant would forever remain shut - a stranger in America. Until America can release the heart as well as train the hand….
Like all people who have nothing, I lived on dreams..