17 October 2014

Three Hundred and Seventy-One

371


Language can never be anything more than an endless stream of metaphors.

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Any given existence is from cradle to grave an ever-changing mix of capacities and limitations.

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We are all born of the same womb, live in the same house, and share the same grave.

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What you cannot do or be, or perhaps should not do or be, imagine.

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Who can teach anyone not open to learning anything new?

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So, where exactly is this thing called vanity?

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Nature belies any and all dogma.

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Doubt cannot be transplanted.

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So … so … so … monkey-mind.

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In stillness, you are as before all creation.

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This cannot be taught, only learned, and then forgotten.

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Who created God? … What do you mean we don’t ask that question?

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What is true absolute power but the mind that can hold fast its passionate monkey.

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The one and only God – for the want of a better word – includes you.

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Across the world, true believers praying to a dial tone.