Not The Senses I Have But What

Where Once Stood The Steadfast Pines, Great, Beautiful, Sweet, My Hand Touched Raw, Moist Stumps. All About Lay Broken Branches, Like The Antlers Of Stricken Deer. The Fragrant, Piled-up Sawdust Swirled And Tumbled About Me. An Unreasoning Resentment Flashed Through Me At The Ruthless Destruction Of The Beauty That I Love.

Things Must Be Felt With The Heart.

Each Day Comes To Me With Both Hands Full Of Possibilities.

We Should Respect All People.

The Most Important Day I Remember In All My Life Is The One On Which My Teacher, Anne Mansfield Sullivan, Came To Me