Worse Than Being Blind Would Be To

Smell Is A Potent Wizard That Transports You Across Thousands Of Miles And All The Years You Have Lived.

As Selfishness And Complaint Pervert The Mind, So Love With Its Joy Clears And Sharpens The Vision.

What A Joy It Is To Feel The Soft, Springy Earth Under My Feet Once More, To Follow Grassy Roads That Lead To Ferny Brooks Where I Can Bathe My Fingers In A Cataract Of Rippling Notes, Or To Clamber Over A Stone Wall Into Green Fields That Tumble And Roll And Climb In Riotous Gladness!

I Find That Fact And Fancy Look Alike Across The Years That Link The Past With The Present.

We Can Do Anything We Want To If We Stick To It Long Enough.