Literature Is My Utopia

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.

Thus I Came Up Out Of Egypt And Stood Before Sinai, And A Power Divine Touched My Spirit And Gave It Sight, So That I Beheld Many Wonders. And From The Sacred Mountain I Heard A Voice Which Said, ‘knowledge Is Love And Light And Vision.

I, Who Have Never Heard A Sound, Tell You There Is No Silence, And I, Who Have Never Seen A Ray Of Light, Tell You There Is No Darkness.

A Smile Goes A Long Way, But You Must First Start It On Its Journey.

People Often ... Have No Idea How Fair The Flower Is To The Touch, Nor Do They Appreciate Its Fragrance, Which Is The Soul Of The Flower.