Naked and Entwined

"A human being is never what he is but the self he seeks.

...

...because two bodies, naked and entwined,
leap over time, they are invulnerable,
nothing can touch them, they return to the source,
there is no you, no I, no tomorrow,
no yesterday, no names,
the truth of two in a single body,
a single soul, oh total being...

...

Art is the opposite of dissipation,
in the physical and spiritual sense of the word:
it is concentration, desire that seeks incarnation.

...

To love is to undress our names."

- Octavio Paz (1914 - 1998)

Intimidated by Logic

"No one is intimidated by logic,
except logicians.

...

All our language is composed of brief little dreams; and the wonderful thing is that we sometimes make of them strangely accurate and marvelously reasonable thoughts. What should we be without the help of that which does not exist? Very little. And our unoccupied minds would languish if fables, mistaken notions, abstractions, beliefs, and monsters, hypotheses, and the so-called problems of metaphysics did not people with beings and objectless images our natural depths and darkness. Myths are the souls of our actions and our loves. We cannot act without moving towards a phantom. We can love only what we create.

...

You can never be too subtle,
and you can never be too simple."

- Paul Valery (1871 - 1945)

Joyfully Reaching the Stream

 "Follow the way of virtue.
Follow the way joyfully
Through this world and on beyond!
...
The fool laughs at generosity.
The miser cannot enter heaven.
But the master finds joy in giving

And happiness is his reward.
...

And more -
For greater than all the joys
Of heaven and of earth,

Greater still than dominion

Over all the worlds,

Is the joy of reaching the stream."

- The Dhammapada

The Essence of Everything

"He saw all these forms and faces in a thousand relationships become newly born. Each one was mortal, a passionate, painful example of all that is transitory. Yet none of them died, they only changed, were always reborn, continually had a new face: only time stood between one face and another.

...

The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world. The bird flies to God. That God's name is Abraxas.

...

There is, so I believe, in the essence of everything, something that we cannot call learning. There is, my friend, only a knowledge - that is everywhere, that is Atman, that is in me and you and in every creature, and I am beginning to believe that this knowledge has no worse enemy than the man of knowledge, than learning.

...

We fear death, we shudder at life's instability, we grieve to see the flowers wilt again and again, and the leaves fall, and in our hearts we know that we, too, are transitory and will soon disappear. When artists create pictures and thinkers search for laws and formulate thoughts, it is in order to salvage something from the great dance of death, to make something last longer than we do.

...

One thing, however, did become clear to him - why so many perfect works of art did not please him at all, why they were almost hateful and boring to him, in spite of a certain undeniable beauty. Workshops, churches, and palaces were full of these fatal works of art; he had even helped with a few himself. They were deeply disappointing because they aroused the desire for the highest and did not fulfill it. They lacked the most essential thing - mystery. That was what dreams and truly great works of art had in common: mystery ... You, too, have mysteries of your own. I know that you must have dreams that you don’t tell me. I don’t want to know them. But I can tell you: live those dreams, play with them, build altars to them ... Whether you and I and a few others will renew the world someday remains to be seen. But within ourselves we must renew it each day."

- Hermann Hesse (1877 - 1962)

Poetic Imagination

"It is through the intentionality of poetic imagination that the poet's soul discovers the opening of consciousness common to all true poetry.

...

Every corner in a house, every angle in a room, every inch of secluded space in which we like to hide, or withdraw into ourselves, is a symbol of solitude for the imagination; that is to say, it is the germ of a room or a house... Consciousness of being at peace in one’s corner produces a sense of immobility, and this, in turn, radiates immobility. An imaginary room rises up around our bodies, and we think we are well hidden when we take refuge in a corner."

- Gaston Bachelard (1884 - 1962)
The Poetics of Space

Musical Arabesque

"Maybe it was because of his ignorance of music that he had been capable of receiving so confused an impression, the kind of impression that is, however, perhaps the only one which is purely musical, immaterial, entirely original, irreducible to any other order of impression. An impression of this kind is, for an instant, so to speak, sine materia. No doubt the notes we hear then tend already, depending on their loudness and their quantity, to spread out before our eyes over surfaces of varying dimensions, to trace arabesques, to give us sensations of breadth, tenuousness, stability, whimsy.

...

I wondered whether music might not be
the unique example of what might have been
 - if the invention of language,
the formation of words,
the analysis of ideas had not intervened
- the means of communication between souls.

...

He knew that the very memory of the piano falsified still further the perspective in which he saw the elements of music, that the field open to the musician is not a miserable stave of seven notes, but an immeasurable keyboard (still almost entirely unknown) on which, here and there only, separated by the thick darkness of its unexplored tracts, some few among the millions of keys of tenderness, of passion, of courage, of serenity, which compose it, each one differing from all the rest as one universe differs from another, have been discovered by a few great artists who do us the service, when they awaken in us the emotion corresponding to the theme they have discovered, of showing us what richness, what variety lies hidden, unknown to us, in that vast, unfathomed and forbidding night of our soul which we take to be an impenetrable void."

- Marcel Proust (1987 - 1922)
In Search of Lost Time

Shadow and Light

"You must have shadow and light source both.
Listen, and lay your head under the tree of awe."

- Rumi (1207 - 1273)

Ethereal Substances

"To hear never-heard sounds,
To see never-seen colors and shapes,
To try to understand the imperceptible
Power pervading the world;
To fly and find pure ethereal substances
That are not of matter
But of that invisible soul pervading reality.
To hear another soul and to whisper to another soul."

- Dejan Stojanović (1959 - )

Atoms of Space

"It all starts from the idea that space—like matter—is made of discrete elements. And that the structure of space and everything in it is just defined by the network of relations between these elements—that we might call atoms of space. It’s very elegant—but deeply abstract ... And what we’re seeing here is the emergence of space and everything in it by the successive application of very simple computational rules. And, remember, those dots are not atoms in any existing space. They’re atoms of space—that are getting put together to make space. And, yes, if we kept going long enough, we could build our whole universe this way ... all this is built from pure computation. But like fluid mechanics emerging from molecules, what emerges here is spacetime—and Einstein’s equations for gravity ... Our computational rules can inevitably be applied in many ways, each defining a different thread of time—a different path of history—that can branch and merge ... But as observers embedded in this universe, we’re branching and merging too. And it turns out that quantum mechanics emerges as the story of how branching minds perceive a branching universe."

- Stephen Wolfram (1959 - )
How to Think Computationally about AI, the Universe and Everything

Uncanny Witchery

"November — with uncanny witchery in its changed trees. With murky red sunsets flaming in smoky crimson behind the westering hills. With dear days when the austere woods were beautiful and gracious in a dignified serenity of folded hands and closed eyes — days full of a fine, pale sunshine that sifted through the late, leafless gold of the juniper-trees and glimmered among the grey beeches, lighting up evergreen banks of moss and washing the colonnades of the pines."

- Lucy Maud Montgomery (1874 - 1942)