Litany Against Fear I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. Frank Herbert, Dune dune.fandom.com fearminddeath
Reality exists in the mind But I tell you, Winston, that reality is not external. Reality exists in the human mind, and nowhere else. George Orwell, 1984 realitymind
A mind so in flux A mind so in flux, so sensitive to intuitive insights, could never write an academic textbook. All he could retain on paper were indications, hints, allusions, like the delicate color dots and line plays on his pictures. Sibyl Moholy-Nagy, Pedagogical Sketchbook drawingmind
The brain within its groove The brain within its groove Runs evenly and true; But let a splinter swerve, T'were easier for you To put the water back When floods have slit the hills, And scooped a turnpike for themselves, And blotted out the mills! Emily Dickinson, The Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson insanitymind
Kokoro A Novel by Natsume Sōseki www.penguinrandomhouse.com Vibrations in the airThat delicate and complex instrumentThe great soundless whirl of darknessUnderfootNot them he despised+2 More zenabsurdity
Vibrations in the air Words are not just vibrations in the air, they work more powerfully than that, and on more powerful objects. words
That delicate and complex instrument Could that delicate and complex instrument that lies in the human breast ever really produce a reading that was absolutely clear and truthful, like a clock’s hands pointing to numbers on its dial? lovetruth
The great soundless whirl of darkness I could not know that even then the little light was being drawn irresistibly into the great soundless whirl of darkness and that I was watching a light that was destined soon to blink out and disappear. lightdarknessmelancholy
Underfoot The memory of having sat at someone’s feet will later make you want to trample him underfoot.
Not them he despised For all his unresponsiveness to others’ affection, I now see, it was not them he despised but himself. melancholy
Reading I suppose it’s because I believe you don’t really become a finer person just by reading lots of books. learningcommonplace
A circle of beads If you count off a circle of beads, you never reach an end. At what point, and with what feelings, would his fingers cease to move those beads? This may be a silly question, but it haunts me. ending