If It Is True That The Violin

Every One Of Us Is Blind And Deaf Until Our Eyes Are Opened To Our Fellowmen, Until Our Ears Hear The Voice Of Humanity.

I Am Just As Deaf As I Am Blind. The Problems Of Deafness Are Deeper And More Complex, If Not More Important Than Those Of Blindness. Deafness Is A Much Worse Misfortune. For It Means The Loss Of The Most Vital Stimulus- The Sound Of The Voice That Brings Language, Sets Thoughts Astir, And Keeps Us In The Intellectual Company Of Man.

The Joy Of Surmounting Obstacles Which Once Seemed Unremovable, And Pushing The Frontier Of Accomplishment Further — What Joy Is There Like Unto It?

The Breakage And Agony Rending Us Today Will Be Our Salvation If They Drive Us By New Routes To Meet It. No One Can Proxy For Us A Masterpiece Of Loving Or Experience For Us The Rapture Of Art Or Launch For Us Book Ships Freighted With Sweet Bread To Strengthen Man. As Of Old We Must Be Our Own Seers, Musicians And Explorers, And To An Extent Vaster Than Ever Before.

Deep, Solemn Optimism, It Seems To Me, Should Spring From This Firm Belief In The Presence Of God In The Individual; Not A Remote, Unapproachable Governor Of The Universe, But A God Who Is Very Near Every One Of Us, Who Is Present Not Only In Earth, Sea And Sky, But Also In Every Pure And Noble Impulse Of Our Hearts.