Only, In Haiti, I Realized, Is It

What Could Be More Lonely Than To Be Enveloped In Silence, To Be The Last Of Your People To Speak Your Native Tongue, To Have No Way To Pass On The Wisdom Of The Elders, To Anticipate The Promise Of The Children. This Tragic Fate Is Indeed The Plight Of Someone Somewhere Roughly Every Two Weeks.

Language Is An Old-growth Forest Of The Mind.

What Is Science But The Pursuit Of The Truth? What Is Buddhism But 2500 Years Of Observation As To The Nature Of Mind?

If We Accept That We Are All Cut From The Same Genetic Cloth, All Cultures Share The Same Genius. And Whether That Genius Is Placed Into Technological Wizardry Which Has Been Our Great Achievement, Or, By Contrast, Placed Into The Unraveling Of Complex Threads Of Memory Inherent In A Myth Is Simply A Matter Of Choice.

You Know, Once Something Freezes, It's Solid. That's The Key To The Arctic - They Didn't Fear The Cold, They Made Use Of It.