I Look Upon The Whole

I Have Made My Limitations Tools Of Learning And True Joy.

The Hands Of Those I Meet Are Dumbly Eloquent To Me. The Touch Of Some Hands Is An Impertinence. I Have Met People So Empty Of Joy, That When I Clasped Their Frosty Finger-tips, It Seemed As If I Were Shaking Hands With A Northeast Storm. Others There Are Whose Hands Have Sunbeams In Them, So That Their Grasp Warms My Heart. It May Be Only The Clinging Touch Of A Child's Hand; But There Is As Much Potential Sunshine In It For Me As There Is In A Loving Glance For Others. A Hearty Handshake Or A Friendly Letter Gives Me Genuine Pleasure.

Tyranny Cannot Defeat The Power Of Ideas.

Oh, You Think The Darkness Is Your Ally, But You Merely Adopted The Dark. I Was Born In It. Molded By It.

Literature Is My Utopia