I Can See In What You Call

The Only Real Blind Person At Christmas Time Is He Who Has Not Christmas In His Heart.

There Is Joy In Self-forgetfulness. So I Try To Make The Light In Others' Eyes My Sun, The Music In Others' Ears My Symphony, The Smile On Others' Lips My Happiness.

Not The Senses I Have But What I Do With Them Is My Kingdom.

There Is No Blindness More Insidious, More Fatal That This Race For Profit.

The Wise Fools Who Sit In The High Places Of Justice Fail To See That In Revolutionary Times Vital Issues Are Settled Not By Statutes, Decrees And Authorities, But In Spite If Them.