“I see a thing, something, someone, something beautiful, something ugly, and I can’t get my hands on it.  I can’t understand, and I can’t just accept.  I don’t know if anything means anything to me.  A painting or a person is like a wall in front of me.  I can’t see the wall, because I’m blind, but I know it’s there and I know that if I take another step I’ll bang my nose against it.  My nose hurts already, thinking about it.  That’s all I know how to write about, how my nose hurts.”

Peter S. Beagle, I See By My Outfit (Pleasantville, NY: Akedine Press, 2002; orig. 1964), 81.


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