*image by Ben Harubin

Further ramifications of Habit Equaling Consistent Tempos:
In the higher latitudes, rhythm means death.

When one man's view became that his mind was suffering from continual,
off-balancing "one-two punches" from the world of external conditions, he
began to counteract it by getting in the first blow himself.

And another of those who know said, "Ignore the miracles that come and go,
and turn your attention to the miraculous that is with you every day."
"What's to be used is not down the road somewhere."

The head of a mystical school so addressed the monks one day,
"I say that he who does not find his life fully tormented by words is not yet on the
right road to our end."
(And everyone there seemed to understand that he was not referring to words
you might hear with your ears.)

This question has recently settled about one man's inquiring area:
"Do we seek deliverance of the mind, or from the mind?"

And now for some fashion news:
Clothes lose any meaning
once you realize that all suits and dresses are the same.

"And the winner of the debate is:
All uncertainty is banished when attention is given only to the
immediate here and the instant now!"
"Hey, that's not the victor of a debate but the end of all debates!"
"Oh...I'm sorry, that's what I meant to say."
"Okay...well that's better."
"Okay, if you say so."