In the country of the blind, the one-eyed man is King.
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- We may remark in passing that to be blind and beloved may, in this world where nothing is perfect, be among the most strangely exquisite forms of happiness. The supreme happiness in life is the assurance of being loved; of being loved for oneself, even in spite of oneself; and this assurance the blind man possesses. In his affliction, to be served is to be caressed. Does he lack anything? no. Possessing love he is not deprived of light. A love, moreover, that is wholly pure. There can be no blindness where there is this certainty.
- A blind man will not thank you for a looking-glass.
- But who would rush at a benighted man, and give him two black eyes for being blind?
- Sometimes, I feel I am really blessed to be blind because I probably would not last a minute if I were able to see things.
- It’s sad that, in our blindness we gather thorns for flowers
- There’s none so blind as they that won’t see.