blindness

Never, even in his wildest dreams, had his imagination come close to the reality of her.

Use your dick, don__ be one.

Freedom you earn is more powerful than freedom handed to you.

Sometimes that__ what it takes. Putting it all out there and hoping love wins.

To be blessed and yet permit gluttony to blind me to the blessings is to banish myself to a life of unrelenting poverty even though I might be utterly engulfed in the embrace of a million marvelous blessings.

Some ancient oversight had nearly taken his sight, but this sad fuck was already blind inside.

All dark and comfortless.

I am not so blind that I can't see darkness.

Her dark world was bright because of her sparkling attitude!

I have found so many angels trapped inside undisputed jargon that I find myself digging at the words, in order to release them, from the books that unfairly captured their soul.

We__ all lost ourselves and found something far more significant together. We reached with gaping wounds for a healing we desired so badly, like a blind man picturing the world around him__he lively children skipping rope, green grass, blue sky. It__ like that man standing in his vision, rising from the park bench, arms outstretched, taking the first steps into a world he only hopes exists.

The trouble with this dog is that it has grown too close to human beings, it will suffer as they do.

It is enough to know, too much to see.

Don't be afraid of the dark." She tousled his hair tolerantly. "I've never known a man who wasn't scared of more things than I was.

Imagine walking along a sidewalk with your arms full of groceries, and someone roughly bumps into you so that you fall and your groceries are strewn over the ground. As you rise up from the puddle of broken eggs and tomato juice, you are ready to shout out, 'You idiot! What's wrong with you? Are you blind?' But just before you can catch your breath to speak, you see that the person who bumped into you is actually blind. He, too, is sprawled in the spilled groceries, and your anger vanishes in an instant, to be replaced by sympathetic concern: 'Are you hurt? Can I help you up?' Our situation is like that. When we clearly realize that the source of disharmony and misery in the world is ignorance, we can open the door of wisdom and compassion.

When someone is cruel, harsh, mean, to not take their words personally is one thing, but to hear the silent cry within those words is another. This sort of perspective can not only liberate us from crippling self-doubt in the face of criticism, it can also liberate us from automatically becoming blind participants in the interaction patterns that the cruel person has become accustomed to__ favour we do for the other person as much as for ourselves.

Dave once asked me what blind people dream about. Mostly in sound and feeling, I replied. At night I fall in love with a voice, and then wake to a feeling of physical loss. Sometimes I close my eyes to a chorus of __appy Birthday!_ The smell of cake and the sound of feet under the table. I awake in a body that__ too big. I also dream in motion and sensation. My father__ boat and the snore of the mast; the rough fabric of the safety harness and the rip of Velcro. The sun on my legs. And endless stretch of water impossible to imagine.

And of the fact that every vision of the past is a vision of the blind