Only the meditative listeners can penetrate beyond the surface.
Maurizio Bianchi
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Every day we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heartache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty. Every man, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. There is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, only to discover what is already there.
Henry Miller
(via kawanah)
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"The Apology" by Yumikrum
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Joan Gascó, The Holy Face (detail), 1513
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page 258 of “Theatrum mortis humanæ tripartitum. I. Pars. Saltum mortis. II. Pars. Varia genera mortis. III. Pars. Pnas damnatorum continens. Figuris æneis illustratum, das ist, Schau-Bühne desz menschlichen Todts in drey Theil. 1. Theil. Der T
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Illustrations by Tanadori Yokoo, 1975.
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Aboriginal head-hunters, Taiwan
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