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“Imagine you lose your legs. So much of what you do for the rest of your life is constricted, or painful. Or humiliating. You feel ashamed. But over the years despite all that you still hear a good piece of music or read something fine or successfully make love to your wife—without legs that really must be something but never mind— ... So at these times you feel what other people feel, you know. Satisfaction. Pleasure. Happiness. Even joy. You can see the largeness and beauty of life. You have snatches of happiness. And does anyone have more than that? Visionaries maybe. Ecstatics... Otherwise no, they have the same little passing lovely moments of happiness as this, but they have it or don't have it or strive for it or forget it—with legs. But you have no legs. Every day you wake, having dreamt of your legs, and you find again you have none. Every morning that flash of hope, every morning that smash of truth.” — Vince Passaro