Don’t you see we are all a part of something, here in the West? We are trying to break through. I’m a song myself, the broken end of a song myself.
We have to sing, you see, here in the darkness. All men have to sing—poor broken things. We have to sing here in the darkness in the roaring flood. We have to find each other. Have you courage tonight for a song? Lift your voices. Come.
– Sherwood Anderson, 1917