Be Heroes In An Army

I, Who Cannot See, Find Hundreds Of Things To Interest Me Through Mere Touch. I Feel The Delicate Symmetry Of A Leaf. I Pass My Hands Lovingly About The Smooth Skin Of A Silver Birch, Or The Rough Shaggy Bark Of A Pine.

Once I Knew The Depth Where No Hope Was And Darkness Lay On The Face Of All Things. Then Love Came And Set My Soul Free.

The Inferiority Of Women Is Man-made.

I Don't Give A Damn About Semi-radicals!

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.