"What are you afraid of, then?""Not being able to see, I think," she said."Being blind, you mean?""No, not that. . . . I mean . . . not seeing because you're obsessed by something that blots out the world. Some sort of mania or belief. Or passion. That awful kind of love that makes leaves and birds and cherry blossom invisible because it's not the face of some man." -A Song For Summer - Eva Ibbotson