Wu Quotes

But…Wei WuXian looked slightly to the side. He saw Lan WangJi, who stood beside him, without any hint of hesitation, any thought of withdrawing. But, this time, he wasn’t alone anymore.

I’d love to work with an Asian guy named Wu Hu, because just saying his name would get me all pumped up and excited.

Lan XiChen, 'You believe in him?' Lan WangJi, 'I do.' He answered without any hesitation. Wei WuXian felt his chest warm up.

The people finally realized what was going on. It seemed that whenever someone tried to argue with Wei WuXian, Lan WangJi would seal their lips.

Doing nothing can sometimes be the most effective form of action.

Wei WuXian grinned and pointed at himself. "How about this one?" Lan WangJi, "Mine." "..." Lan WangJi stared at him, slowly and articulately stating, "Mine.

Hearing the dog, Wei WuXian immediately felt his hair rise. He shrunk back into Lan WangJi’s arms, half-dead with fright, 'Lan Zhan!' Lan WangJi had already embraced him without needing any reminder, replying, 'I am here!' Wei WuXian, 'Hug me!' Lan WangJi, 'I am hugging you!' Wei WuXian, again, 'Hug me tight!' Lan WangJi, also, 'I am hugging you tight!

Wei WuXian suddenly murmured, '… Lan Zhan.' He reached out and grabbed one of Lan WangJi’s sleeves. Lan WangJi had always been beside him. He immediately bent down and whispered, 'I am here.

Wei WuXian, “Yep. Congratulations. You’re under corpse poisoning.” Jin Ling, “How is this something to congratulate someone for?!

Why are you unhappy? Because 99.9 percent of everything you think, and of everything you do, is for yourself—and there isn’t one.

Even amidst fierce flames the golden lotus can be planted" - Sylvia Plath's epitaph (from Wu Cheng'en's novel Journey to the West aka. Monkey, translated by Arthur Waley)

Wei WuXian smiled again, “Do you know why I’m not carrying my sword? It wouldn’t make a difference if I told you anyways.” He turned around, stating one word at a time, “Because I want you to know that even if I don’t use my sword, with nothing but what you call a ‘crooked path,' I will still rise unparalleled and leave all of you staring at me from behind.

Nothing in this world is difficult, but thinking makes it seem so. Where there is true will, there is always a way.

I like pouring your tea, lifting the heavy pot, and tipping it up, so the fragrant liquid streams in your china cup. Or when you’re away, or at work, I like to think of your cupped hands as you sip, as you sip, of the faint half-smile of your lips. I like the questions – sugar? – milk? – and the answers I don’t know by heart, yet, for I see your soul in your eyes, and I forget. Jasmine, Gunpowder, Assam, Earl Grey, Ceylon, I love tea’s names. Which tea would you like? I say but it’s any tea for you, please, any time of day, as the women harvest the slopes for the sweetest leaves, on Mount Wu-Yi, and I am your lover, smitten, straining your tea. - Tea

Withdrawing his gaze, Wei WuXian spoke calmly, “Now I understand.” He had known from the start that no matter what he said, nobody would listen to him. What he denied could be forced; what he admitted could be twisted.

He laughed so hard that he almost couldn’t breathe, 'You admired me? You said you admired me, but why haven’t I ever seen you when you admired me? And as soon as I’m loathed by everyone, you jump out and wave your little flag?' Tears of laughter seeped from the corners of Wei WuXian’s eyes, 'Your admiration was a bit too cheap, wasn’t it? You said that you’ll forever stand on the opposite side of me. Very well. Does the fact that you’re standing on the opposite side of me affect me at all? Both your admiration and your hatred are so, so insignificant. How could you be so shameless as to flaunt them in front of others?

Reality is what we take to be true. What we take to be true is what we believe. What we believe is based upon our perceptions. What we perceive depends upon what we look for. What we look for depends upon what we think. What we think depends upon what we perceive. What we perceive determines what we believe. What we believe determines what we take to be true. What we take to be true is our reality.

Play your part in the comedy, but don't identify yourself with your role.

A talent for following the ways of yesterday’, declared King Wu-ling in 307 BC, ‘is not sufficient to improve the world of today.

Disciples and devotees…what are most of them doing? Worshipping the teapot instead of drinking the tea!

Wen Yuan held him in one hand and a wooden sword in the other, wearing the grass butterfly on his head, 'Brother Xian, would Brother Rich ever come here again?' Wei WuXian bursted, 'Who’s Brother Rich?' Wen Yuan answered seriously, 'The rich brother is Brother Rich.' Wei WuXian, 'Then what about me?' As expected, Wen Yuan answered, 'You are Brother Xian. Brother Poor.

Wei WuXian called out, '… Lan Zhan.' Lan WangJi’s breathing wasn’t as placid as usual, feeling somewhat rushed. It was probably from carrying Wei WuXian while fending off attacks and being on the run for too long. The tone in which he replied, however, was still the single syllable, as steady as ever, 'Mnn.' After the 'mnn,' he added, 'I am here.

Wei WuXian pondered, 'Does he like it, or is he scared of it? Or is it both at the same time?

Ten thousand flowers in spring, the moon in autumn, a cool breeze in summer, snow in winter. If your mind isn't crowded with ten thousand things, this is the best season of your life.

As long as there is a 'you' doing or not-doing, thinking or not-thinking, 'meditating' or 'not-meditating' you are no closer to home than the day you were born.

Lan WangJi, 'Is it amusing, trifling with empty words?' Wei WuXian, 'It’s very amusing. But, believe me, my words are as much a trifle as my moves are, which means not at all.

Lan WangJi picked up a teacup from the table and took a sip, his voice calm, 'Sit properly.' Wei WuXian, 'There’s no tea in the cup.' '…' Lan WangJi filled the teacup and took it to his lips again. A while later, he repeated, '… Sit properly?

As William James observed, we must reflect that, when we reach the end of our days, our life experience will equal what we have paid attention to, whether by choice or default. We are at risk, without quite fully realizing it, of living lives that are less our own than we imagine.

The path that one person follows is not the correct path for any other person. Each of us must walk his own path to enlightenment— that is the way.

You're really great. I like you. Or in other words, I fancy you, I love you, I want you, I can't leave you, I whatever you. I want to night-hunt with you for the rest of my life." Wei WuXian put three fingers together, pointing at the sky, the earth and finally his heart.

Our focus has to be on changing reality, not changing laws.

Exercise is wonderful," said Louis. "I could sit and watch it all day.

Confusion is a gift from God. Those times when you feel most desperate for a solution, sit. Wait. The information will become clear. The confusion is there to guide you. Seek detachment and become the producer of your life.

The tone in which he replied, however, was still the single syllable, as steady as ever, “Mnn.” After the “mnn”, he added, “I am here.” Hearing the words, something that Wei WuXian had never felt before sprouted within his heart. It was like sorrow. His chest hurt a bit, but also felt a bit warm.

It's no accident that the countries that have enjoyed an economic take off have been those that educated girls and then gave them the autonomy to move to the cities to find work

Knowing others is wisdom. Knowing yourself is Enlightenment. - Lao-Tzu

Wei WuXian! I haven’t seen anyone as shameless as you!

With Wei WuXian dragging him and Wen Yuan clinging to his leg, Lan WangJi was finally shoved into a restaurant.

To slow time down, practice enjoying the moment. It is where we spend our entire lives.

Why are you unhappy? Because 99.9 percent of everything you do is for yourself—and there isn’t one. —Wei Wu Wei

It's harder to make the glass than break the glass.

After Supper the Master dismissed all except Sun Wukong, Zhu Bajie and Sha the Monk. He took them out with him and said, "Look at that wonderful moolight. It makes me long for the time when I can return home.

A team of horses cannot overtake a word that has left the mouth.

Life is a game. Play it

The tone in which he replied, however, was still the single syllable, as steady as ever, 'Mnn.' After the 'mnn,' he added, 'I am here.' Hearing the words, something that Wei WuXian had never felt before sprouted within his heart. It was like sorrow. His chest hurt a bit, but also felt a bit warm.

Lan WangJi, 'Is it amusing, trifling with empty words?' Wei WuXian, 'It’s very amusing. But, believe me, my words are as much a trifle as my moves are, which means not at all.' '…' Lan WangJi muttered to himself, 'Why am I sitting here having such a useless conversation with you?

The first person you have to resurrect is yourself

Lan WangJi, 'Ridiculous!' Wei WuXian found out long ago that Lan WangJi’s temper was especially bad today. He didn’t protest any further and waved his hand, 'Okay, okay. Ridiculous it is. I’m ridiculous. I’m the most ridiculous there is.

The Chinese poet George Wu ... recorded on his comlog: "Poets are the mad midwives to reality. They see not what is, nor what can be, but what must become." Later, on his last disk to his lover the week before he died, Wu said: "Words are the only bullets in truth's bandolier. And poets are the snipers.

But, even when lying down, Wei WuXian didn’t like loneliness. Soon afterward, he began to complain, “It’s too hard, it’s too hard.” Lan WangJi, “What do you want?” Wei WuXian, “I want to lie somewhere else.” Lan WangJi, “Where would you want to lie, at such a place?” Wei WuXian, “Let me borrow your lap for a while, won’t you?

Sun Tzu Wu was a native of the Ch`i State. His Art of War brought him to the notice of Ho Lu, King of Wu. Ho Lu said to him: “I have carefully perused your 13 chapters. May I submit your theory of managing soldiers to a slight test?

THIS which is seeking is THAT which is sought, and THAT which is sought is THIS which is seeking.

Yizhi gapes at me. Then a disbelieving laugh rolls out of him. "All right, let me make this clear: Wu Zetian, you inspire me. Whenever i lose hope that the world can change, I remember you. I remember how you fight for what you want, no matter what anyone says, no matter what stands in your way." He draws me into his arms and murmurs into my hair. "You're my polar star, I'll go wherever you guide me.

Having destroyed countless sects, nobody would listen to his explanation, especially when Jin GuangYao would be there fanning the flames. Lan WangJi, though, was different from him. He wouldn’t even have to explain, and people would explain for him, such as how HanGuang-Jun had been deceived by the YiLing Patriarch. Wei WuXian, 'HanGuang-Jun, you don’t have to follow me!' Lan WangJi looked straight in front of him, saying nothing in reply.

You are free when you gain back yourself,” Madame Wu said. “You can be as free within these walls as you could be in the whole world. And how could you be free if, however far you wander, you still carry inside yourself the constant thought of him? See where you belong in the stream of life. Let it flow through you, cool and strong. Do not dam it with your two hands, lest he break the dam and so escape you. Let him go free, and you will be free.

To have anything we want, we need only raise our level of consciousness to the level of consciousness where what we want exists.

It is an underacknowledged truism that, just as you are what you eat, how and what you think depends on what information you are exposed to.

Seeing that right after he woke up he began to speak nonsense again, Lan WangJi shook his head and turned away. Wei WuXian thought that he was going to leave. He hurried, 'Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! Don’t go. I was talking nonsense, my fault, but don’t ignore me.' Lan WangJi, 'Even you are scared of others ignoring you?' Wei WuXian, 'I am, I am.

A quiet-hearted person awakes with a smile on his lips and an eagerness in his heart for the day ahead.

When we learn to work with our own Inner Nature, and with the natural laws operating around us, we reach the level of Wu Wei. Then we work with the natural order of things and operate on the principle of minimal effort. Since the natural world follows that principle, it does not make mistakes. Mistakes are made–or imagined–by man, the creature with the overloaded Brain who separates himself from the supporting network of natural laws by interfering and trying too hard. When you work with Wu Wei, you put the round peg in the round hole and the square peg in the square hole. No stress, no struggle. Egotistical Desire tries to force the round peg into the square hole and the square peg into the round hole. Cleverness tries to devise craftier ways of making pegs fit where they don’t belong. Knowledge tries to figure out why round pegs fit into round holes, but not square holes. Wu Wei doesn’t try. It doesn’t think about it. It just does it. And when it does, it doesn’t appear to do much of anything. But Things Get Done. When you work with Wu Wei, you have no real accidents. Things may get a little Odd at times, but they work out. You don’t have to try very hard to make them work out; you just let them. [...] If you’re in tune with The Way Things Work, then they work the way they need to, no matter what you may think about it at the time. Later on you can look back and say, "Oh, now I understand. That had to happen so that those could happen, and those had to happen in order for this to happen…" Then you realize that even if you’d tried to make it all turn out perfectly, you couldn’t have done better, and if you’d really tried, you would have made a mess of the whole thing. Using Wu Wei, you go by circumstances and listen to your own intuition. "This isn’t the best time to do this. I’d better go that way." Like that. When you do that sort of thing, people may say you have a Sixth Sense or something. All it really is, though, is being Sensitive to Circumstances. That’s just natural. It’s only strange when you don’t listen.

when sex is conceptualized as a need, it creates an environment that fosters men’s sense of sexual entitlement. Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn’s book Half the Sky illustrates how the assumption that boys require outlets to “relieve their sexual frustrations” facilitates the sexual enslavement of impoverished girls. If you think of sex as a drive, like hunger or thirst, that has to be fed for survival, if you think that men in particular—with their 75 percent spontaneous desire—need to relieve their pent-up sexual energy, then you can invent justifications for any strategy a man might use to relieve himself. Because if sex is a drive, like hunger, then potential partners are like food. Or like animals to be hunted for food.

Yes; the poem goes something like this: 'Bamboo without mind, yet sends thoughts soaring among clouds. Standing on the lone mountain, quiet, dignified, it typifies the will of a gentleman. --Painted and written with light heart, Wu Chen.'" --Sunday, May 31, 1992

You do an experiment because your own philosophy makes you want to know the result. It’s too hard, and life is too short, to spend your time doing something because someone else has said it’s important. You must feel the thing yourself…

Call me that again, and I may just give up the darkness and turn towards the light for you.

Decades from now, people will look back and wonder how societies could have acquiesced in a sex slave trade in the twenty-first century that is... bigger than the transatlantic slave trade was in the nineteenth. They will be perplexed that we shrugged as a lack of investment in maternal health caused half a million women to perish in childbirth each year.

Doing or not doing something - they are similar. Both involve an action and sincerity.

So this was what a mountain was like, the same as a person: the more you know, the less you fear.

If you want to have a future, don't do anything with no future in it.

The master sees beyond what is obvious. He sees the unseen, feels the unfelt, and hears the unheard. He looks below the surface for what is hidden and so finds the great heartbeat of the Universe. He smiles, knowing it is his heartbeat, your heartbeat, our heartbeat.

Lan WangJi's breaths were short and disordered. His hoarse voice whispered beside Wei WuXian's ear, "... fancy you... " Wei WuXian hugged him tight, "Yes!" Lan WangJi, "... love you, want you... " Wei WuXian raised his voice "Yes!" Lan WangJi, "Cannot leave you... do not want anyone but you... it cannot be anyone but you!

...when women gain control over spending, less family money is devoted to instant gratification and more for education and starting small businesses.

Hero is he alone who vies with powers supreme!

Living should be perpetual and universal benediction.

Why aren't you happy? It's because ninety-nine percent of everything you do, and think, and say, is for yourself -- and there isn't one.

When India feels that the West cares as much about slavery as it does about pirated DVDs, it will dispatch people to the borders to stop traffickers.

He said, “Lan Zhan, here, look at me.” Lan WangJi replied in a voice that still sounded a little tight, “Mmm.” Taking a deep breath, Wei WuXian said quietly, “……I really do have a terrible memory. I’ve forgotten a lot of things from before, including that night at the Nightless City. What really happened during those few days, I really don’t remember a thing.” Hearing this, Lan WangJi’s eyes widened slightly. Wei WuXian abruptly clutched Lan WangJi’s shoulders and continued, “But! But starting from now, everything you say to me, everything you do to me, I’ll remember them all, I’ll never forget a thing!” “……” Wei WuXian said, “You’re wonderful. I really like you.” “……” “Or rather, I should say, I fancy you, love you, want you, can’t be without you, whatever you want it to be.

What you must do," said Monkey, "is lure the monster from its hiding place, but be certain it is a fight you can survive.

The tools to crush modern slavery exist, but the political will is lacking.

You can never forget the past unless you face up to it.

To attract people naturally, effortlessly, we need only follow the true prompting of our hearts.

Perhaps writing a story or a novel was not something that should be done for money, or to win praise, but for the sheer sensual pleasure of it. I liked that idea. It made me want to write lots of stories, to give myself that pleasure.

[S]ex trafficking and mass rape should no more be seen as women's issues than slavery was a black issue or the Holocaust was a Jewish issue. These are all humanitarian concerns, transcending any one race, gender, or creed.

The person who desires to leave things better than he found them, who does more than his share, who is not attached to rewards, who is always seeking to benefit others, who knows he is cared for and rewarded by the Universe for his every effort, is able to act selflessly, without expectation of a reward or a return, without thought of advantage, and of him it is said, “He is better than the best,” and, of course, he is greatly rewarded.

It is no coincidence that ours is a time afflicted by a widespread sense of attentional crisis, at least in the West - one captured by the phrase ''homo distractus,'' a species of ever shorter attention span known for compulsively checking his devices.

The same source that tipped us off about her and Wu at Kvarnen says that she used to hang out with a bunch of girls there a while back. Some kind of girl band called Evil Fingers." "Evil fingers?" Bublanski repeated. "Seems to be something occult." "Don't tell me Salander is some damned Satanist too," Bublanski said. "The media are going to go nuts." "Lesbian Satanists," Faste said helpfully. "Hans, you've got a view of women from the Middle Ages," Modig said. "Even I've heard of Evil Fingers." "You have?" Bublanski said. "It was a girl rock band in the late nineties. No superstars, but they were pretty famous for a while." "So hard-rocking lesbian Satanists," Faste said.

Everything that happens, happens at the only possible time it can happen, and it is always at exactly the right time. We cannot get to an appointment before we arrive—or after. It is only at the instant of our arrival that we can arrive, and that is always at exactly the right moment, the perfect moment, the only possible moment.

A person who speaks as if he knows everything soon drives away his listeners. The Universe communicates itself to us in many ways, and sometimes, it is through the words of others. If we act the know-it-all, others may refrain from talking to us, and we may fail to get the message they could have given us.

Dina, I’m bored,” Caldenia announced. Too bad. I guaranteed her safety, not entertainment. “What about your game?” Her Grace gave me a shrug. “I’ve beaten it five times on the Deity setting. I’ve reduced Paris to ashes because Napoleon annoyed me. I’ve eradicated Gandhi. I’ve crushed George Washington. Empress Wu had potential, so I eliminated her before we even cleared Bronze Age. The Egyptians are my pawns. I dominate the planet. Oddly, I find myself mildly fascinated by Genghis Khan. A shrewd and savage warrior, possessing a certain magnetism. I left him with a single city, and I periodically make ridiculous demands that I know he can’t meet so I can watch him squirm.

Beliefs are the unquestioned acceptance of an idea in the absence of verification and reason.   Beliefs are not facts; beliefs are the escape from facts. Beliefs are the food of a make-believe world.   Permanent clarity is available to you, but not if you want to cling to your beliefs.   If you insist on believing, believe this:   I am Conscious Life Energy. Because I am, all is. I am vibrant intelligence, by which flowers grow and wounds heal. In my absence, existence as it is known, ceases. The world is my manifest expression and this body is its instrument of perception and action. In this regard, I am the Knowing of every sensation, feeling and thought. I am the Author of every action.

The earth is black in front of the cliff, and no orchids grow. Creepers crawl in the brown mud by the path. Where did the birds of yesterday fly? To what other mountain did the animals go? Leopards and pythons dislike this ruined spot; Cranes and snakes avoid the desolation. My criminal thoughts of those days past Brought on the disaster of today.

One can only know what occurs within the mind, which is the instrument or tool of conscious experience.   There is no such thing as "out there".   There is only our perception as inbound data. Everything is registered, just as it is. It is only via the mind that a selective representation of the data is created.   Thoughts are objects in the mind as things are objects in the world. The mind and the world are two separate dimensions, overlapping during the waking state. When you can so readily create a world when you dream, why do you believe the impossibility of your creating another world when you are awake?

I came into the unknown and stayed there unknowing rising beyond all science. I did not know the door but when I found the way, unknowing where I was, I learned enormous things, but what I felt I cannot say, for I remained unknowing, rising beyond all science. It was the perfect realm of holiness and peace. In deepest solitude I found the narrow way: a secret giving such release that I was stunned and stammering, rising beyond all science. I was so far inside, so dazed and far away my senses were released from feelings of my own. My mind had found a surer way: a knowledge of unknowing, rising beyond all science. And he who does arrive collapses as in sleep, for all he knew before now seems a lowly thing, and so his knowledge grows so deep that he remains unknowing, rising beyond all science. The higher he ascends the darker is the wood; it is the shadowy cloud that clarified the night, and so the one who understood remains always unknowing, rising beyond all science. This knowledge by unknowing is such a soaring force that scholars argue long but never leave the ground. Their knowledge always fails the source: to understand unknowing, rising beyond all science. This knowledge is supreme crossing a blazing height; though formal reason tries it crumbles in the dark, but one who would control the night by knowledge of unknowing will rise beyond all science. And if you wish to hear: the highest science leads to an ecstatic feeling of the most holy Being; and from his mercy comes his deed: to let us stay unknowing, rising beyond all science.

As an associate at McKinsey & Company, my first assignment was on a team that consisted of a male senior engagement manager (SEM) and two other male associates, Abe Wu and Derek Holley. When the SEM wanted to talk to Abe or Derek, he would walk over to their desks. When he wanted to talk to me, he would sit at his desk and shout, "Sandberg, get over here!" with the tone one might use to call a child or, even worse, a dog. It made me cringe every time. I never said anything, but one day Abe and Derek started calling each other "Sandberg" in that same loud voice. The self-absorbed SEM never seemed to notice. They kept it up. When having too many Sandbergs got confusing, they decided we needed to differentiate. Abe started calling himself "Asian Sandberg," Derek dubbed himself "good-looking Sandberg," and I became "Sandberg Sandberg." My colleagues turned an awful situation into one where I felt protected. They stood up for me and made me laugh. They were the best mentors I could have had.

Andre had been telling her an ancient legend of the fall of man into evil. It came about, he said, by the hand of a woman, Eve, who gave man forbidden fruit. "And how was this woman to know that the fruit was forbidden?" Madame Wu had inquired. "An evil spirit, in the shape of a serpent, whispered it to her," Andre had said. "Why to her instead of to the man?" she had inquired. "Because he knew that her mind and her heart were fixed not upon the man, but upon the pursuance of life," he had replied. "The man's mind and heart were fixed upon himself. He was happy enough, dreaming that he possessed the woman and the garden. Why should he be tempted further? He had all. But the woman could always be tempted by the thought of a better garden, a larger space, more to possess, because she knew that out of her body would come many more beings, and for them she plotted and planned. The woman thought not of herself, but of the many whom she would create. For their sake she was tempted. For their sake she will always be tempted.

The mind is the process through which expression comes. The thought "I am" is the expression of being conscious.   It is the bridge from the relative to the Absolute. It is the aperture through which the Absolute perceives its expressions.   But you are neither the field nor its contents.   You are That Light by which light is perceived.   You are That which provides the blank canvas onto which the paint is applied. You provide the space which supports all objects while itself being ignored.   You are the seeing, the hearing, the perceiving, the knowing, and the doing of all that is seen, heard, perceived, known and done.   Like the wind, That that you are is known only by its effects.

Mr. Wu, is it true that you have an internalized sense of inferiority? That because on the one hand you, for obvious reasons, have not been and can never be fully assimilated into mainstream, i.e., White America— And on the other hand neither do you feel fully justified in claiming solidarity with other historically and currently oppressed groups. That while your community’s experience in the United States has included racism on the personal and the institutional levels, including but not limited to: immigration quotas, actual federal legislation expressly excluding people who look like you from entering the country. Legislation that was in effect for almost a century. Antimiscegenation laws. Discriminatory housing policies. Alien land laws and restrictive covenants. Violation of civil liberties including internment. That despite all of that, you somehow feel that your oppression, because it does not include the original American sin—of slavery—that it will never add up to something equivalent. That the wrongs committed against your ancestors are incommensurate in magnitude with those committed against Black people in America. And whether or not that quantification, whether accurate or not, because of all of this you feel on some level that you maybe can’t even quite verbalize, out of shame or embarrassment, that the validity and volume of your complaints must be calibrated appropriately, must be in proportion to the aggregate suffering of your people. Your oppression is second-class.

There should be a Stage IV of black identity—Unmitigated Blackness. I’m not sure what Unmitigated Blackness is, but whatever it is, it doesn’t sell. On the surface Unmitigated Blackness is a seeming unwillingness to succeed. It’s Donald Goines, Chester Himes, Abbey Lincoln, Marcus Garvey, Alfre Woodard, and the serious black actor. It’s Tiparillos, chitterlings, and a night in jail. It’s the crossover dribble and wearing house shoes outside. It’s “whereas” and “things of that nature.” It’s our beautiful hands and our fucked-up feet. Unmitigated Blackness is simply not giving a fuck. Clarence Cooper, Charlie Parker, Richard Pryor, Maya Deren, Sun Ra, Mizoguchi, Frida Kahlo, black-and-white Godard, Céline, Gong Li, David Hammons, Björk, and the Wu-Tang Clan in any of their hooded permutations. Unmitigated Blackness is essays passing for fiction. It’s the realization that there are no absolutes, except when there are. It’s the acceptance of contradiction not being a sin and a crime but a human frailty like split ends and libertarianism. Unmitigated Blackness is coming to the realization that as fucked up and meaningless as it all is, sometimes it’s the nihilism that makes life worth living. Sitting

The boatman then gently guided the raft across. They saw a dead body floating. At the sight of this, the Master was greatly frightened. But Sun smiled and said, "Master do not be alarmed! That corpse is none other than your own." Zhu Bajie said, "It is you, it is you!" Sha the Monk clapped his hands, and also said, "It is you, it is you!" The boatman also remarked "It was yours, I congratulate you." The three pilgrims congratulated him, and they quietly crossed over the Could Ferry in safety. The Master's shape was changed, and he jumped ashore on the other side with a very light body.

Shimin gulps. "The last thing I needed was another reason for the world to hate me. Though, now..." "Now?" Yizhi's voice goes as airy as the steam wreathing around them. "Now, I see-" Shimin grabs Yizhi's chin. "It's all fucking bullshit." He slams the window shut with his other arm, then leans down and takes Yizhi's lips with his own. My heart stutters, drawing my chest tight. But I'm at peace with this. Instead of a betrayal of any form, it feels like a completion. My killer boy, my sweet boy. The final line in this triangular formation we've been dancing in, making us stronger than ever. This is unconventional, yet another implicit rule we're breaking, but you know what? It works for us. And I think the three of us are done with letting the world tell us what's okay and what isn't.

The value of a physical theory depends upon its usefulness. In this sense the history of physical theories might be said to resemble the history of individual personality traits. Most of us respond to our environment with a collection of automatic responses that once brought desirable results, usually in childhood. Unfortunately, if the environment that produced these responses changes (we grow up) and the responses themselves do not adapt, they become counterproductive. Showing anger, becoming depressed, flattering, crying, and bullying behavior are response patterns appropriate to times often long past. These patterns change only when we are forced to realize that they are no longer productive. Even then change is often painful and slow. The same is true of scientific theories.