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Quote by P.S. Jagadeesh Kumar

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P.S. Jagadeesh Kumar

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“The Huicholes were dangerous because they were not tainted by the fear of death. They accepted life as something caught between the sun and the earth in which man could only participate briefly. No amount of defeat could make them regard themselves as inferior. They had none of the fear of losing their beliefs that drives modern man to devise fantastic schemes. Above all else, the Huicholes were dangerous because they believed that their hour of triumph had not yet arrived. In the celebration that would follow, centuries of occupation would disappear, like dust scattered by the wind.”

“Such visions,” she said, “will always be tested. For this is the order of the most Ancient Ones who shape our destiny awaiting the day that we stand by their side as equals.” “I find myself far from that day,” Sha’han said with an effort at lightness. “Oh,” mused the Oracle, returning his smile with the greater ease. “It is not far from them to cherish and love that which is a treasure to us. It is only the fear and the anger that drags us away into the shadowed lands. We have to accept that heartache is the twin of love and that it is a good thing, in its own way – for it too reveals the greatness of our connections.”

“I’ll give you my prophecies. Pay attention to those hearts filled with envy for others. If I say, I love sunshine, they say they hate the sunshine, and again. If I were to say, Saturdays are my best days, they will say; Saturdays are their worst days, If I were to say, I love organic chicken, they would say; they do not care for organic chicken. They could love all these things; but would go against everything, just to go against you. -MillYentei”

“He knew clearly enough that his imagination was growing traitor to him, and yet at times it seemed the ship he sailed in, his fellow-passengers, the sailors, the wide sea, were all part of a filmy phantasmagoria that hung, scarcely veiling it, between him and a horrible real world. Then the Porroh man, thrusting his diabolical face through that curtain, was the one real and undeniable thing. At that he would get up and touch things, taste something, gnaw something, burn his hand with a match, or run a needle into himself. ("Pollock And The Porrah Man")”