Sunday, December 22, 2024 Text is available under the CC BY-SA 3.0 licence.

Kate Bush

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This kicking here inside
Makes me leave you behind.
No more under the quilt
To keep you warm.
Your sister I was born.
You must lose me like an arrow,
Shot into the killer storm.

 
Kate Bush

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The storm is here. From the clash of these two winds the storm will be born, its time has arrived. Now the wind from above rules, but the wind from below is coming…. The prophecy is here. When the storm calms, when rain and fire again leave the country in peace, the world will no longer be the world but something better.

 
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On dusty roads and tracks
Now it's the time to come back
The warm wind blows constantly
Riding that storm since the day you were born
Is there somebody in? Now answer me!

 
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Every human being on this earth is born with a tragedy, and it isn't original sin. He's born with the tragedy that he has to grow up. That he has to leave the nest, the security, and go out to do battle. He has to lose everything that is lovely and fight for a new loveliness of his own making, and it's a tragedy. A lot of people don't have the courage to do it.

 
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When you practice archery, if your mind is occupied with shooting the arrow, the shot will be disturbed, and will not be settled (smooth). If you are wielding the long sword, and your mind is fixed on wielding the sword, the sword will not move smoothly. The archer should forget about shooting the arrow, and shoot as he would doing nothing special. Then the shot will be smooth. When wielding the long sword, or riding a horse, do it as though you would not wield a sword or ride a horse. Stop doing everything, have an empty, everydays mind, even when you have lots of things to do, do it easily, smoothly. The man who has nothing on his heart is the man of the Way.

 
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It was precisely this notion of infinite series which in the sixth century BC led the Greek philosopher Zeno to conclude that since an arrow shot towards a target first had to cover half the distance, and then half the remainder, and then half the remainder after that, and so on ad infinitum, the result was, as I will now demonstrate, that though an arrow is always approaching its target, it never quite gets there, and Saint Sebastian died of fright.

 
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