We each of us believe ourselves in positions of special knowledge, that we comprehend a little better about things than everyone else. No one knows who we really are but us; no one understands what we go through but our own selves; our reasons, our excuses: there is something about them that make them right. Everyone else? That’s a different story — they’re not us, and they don’t know. Do they? Don’t they? Perhaps only when it is convenient for us, it may be then they should understand our point of view….

It is perhaps a graduation to a certain level of maturity when we truly fathom that there are other people looking out of those other eyes. I think some of us never get around to realizing this; some will always look at the “other” and never see someone who is fundamentally the same as him. But I think it is no mistake that this understanding is a difficult one, that such things are hidden from our normal sight. Like God secret among all things, it takes a certain faith to see this “other,” but such a vision: for who can love who has not this sight? What a reward to he who cares to look….