Doctor my eyes, they can not see the sky.Is this the prize for having learned now not to cry?

Doctor my eyes, they can not see the sky.
Is this the prize for having learned now not to cry?

It is only with the eyes open that a corporeal form returns, and assembles itself firmly around the hard core of sight.

[L]et my reader who is puzzled by my awkward explanations close his eyes for no more than two minutes, and see if he does not find himself suddenly not a compact human being at all, but only a consciousness on a sea of sound and touch . . .

It was a great time to be born, because I got to have my own publishing company right from the beginning, so I made more money than somebody would have doing what I did ten or fifteen years before.

You would think with all the genius and the brilliance of these times, we might find a higher purpose and a better use of mind.