Vision (n.) already exercises power over its object; vision is already enjoyment.
Vision (n.) already announces contact: sight and hearing caress the visible and the audible.
Vision (n.) is an adequation of idea and thing — a comprehension that encompasses; desire wants what cannot be seen.
Vision (n.) owes its philosophical prestige to this: a being seems to come to it out of nothingness, as from its origin.
Vision (n.) forgets the "there is" — it rests content with the finite and cares nothing for the infinite; fleeing itself in seeing, consciousness comes back to itself.
Vision (n.) as the model of all knowing is no accident — and it can expand into a whole civilization; we even say "see" for what we hear or taste.
Vision (n.) is not a transcendence: it moves into the grasp, inviting the hand — Socrates mocked Glaucon for taking a look at the starry sky for an experience of height.
Vision (n.) is essentially the adequation of exterior to interior: the outside is reabsorbed into the contemplative soul — an operation impossible in discourse, where the interlocutor stays forever outside.