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I have been so long masterthat I would be master still, or at least that none othershould be master of me

I have been so long masterthat I would be master still, or at least that none othershould be master of me

I have been so long masterthat I would be master still, or at least that none othershould be master of me. (Bram Stoker, Dracula)

When I was sixteen, there was no one to count on but myself. Everyone in my family was taking care of themselves, surviving, but everyone forgot I was sixteen years old. I had never felt so lost and so alone in my life

Into my heart an air that killsFrom yon far country blows:What are those blue remembered hills,What spires, what farms are those?That is the land of lost content,I see it shining plain,The happy highways where I wentAnd cannot come – A.E. Housman, A Shropshire Lad

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