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Quote by Guy Brown

“Were it not for the melanin in our skin, myoglobin in our muscles and haemoglobin in our blood, we would be the colour of mitochondria. And, if this were so, we would change colour when we exercised or ran out of breath, so that you could tell how energized someone was from his or her colour.”

Quote by Guy Brown

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The Energy of Life

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Guy Brown

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“The extracellular genesis of cells in animals seemed to me, ever since the publication of the cell theory [of Schwann], just as unlikely as the spontaneous generation of organisms. These doubts produced my observations on the multiplication of blood cells by division in bird and mammalian embryos and on the division of muscle bundles in frog larvae. Since then I have continued these observations in frog larvae, where it is possible to follow the history of tissues back to segmentation.”

“Each cell within its atom is a raw, formless idea that exists beyond mortality. It is the wild state constantly creating your world, the one word in a collective equation that is you becoming written from nothing into something — and so it knows, ultimately, annihilation is an essential instrument of becoming new to all that can be known.”

“Kila sumu ina kiuasumu chake. Viuasumu vya 'cyanide' ni 'amyl nitrite', 'sodium nitrite', 'cyanokit', na 'sodium thiosulfate'. Kazi ya viuasumu hivi ni kuzalisha madini mengi ya chuma mwilini. Madini haya yatapambana na maada za rangi za uhai ('cytochromes') kwa ajili ya 'cyanide', ili 'cyanide' ing’ang’anie kwenye kiuasumu badala ya kung’ang’ania kwenye vimeng’enya vya seli za mwilini. Kiuasumu kinaposhinda mpambano huo; 'cyanide' hutolewa nje kwa njia ya mkojo, na mwathirika wa 'cyanide' hupona kabisa. 'Sodium thiosulfate' ndiyo bora zaidi kuliko 'amyl nitrite' au 'sodium nitrite', na ndiyo bora zaidi kuliko 'cyanokit'.”

“If in poetry court she was called to testify on matters where I was condemned to imprisonment: parking my ego at a broken meter, line violations, forced rhyme, dealing stanzaics to children, shooting off my mouth, getting cute, for even this latest attempt at verse, she would tell the whole truth, she would admit from the pit of her unsung brilliance, from all of the paintings and poems she herself has been making and storing in the vast empire of her singing soul, your Honor, my daughter is guilty of plagiarizing my cells.”

“Cells became molecules—countless and complex and varied. The demarcation of one thing and another failed. There was only a community of molecules, shifting in a vast dance. And then the atoms that made the molecules gave up their space, and she was a breath. A mist. A tiny play of fields and interactions in a vacuum as perfect as space. She was a vibration in nothingness.”

“I think I’d know it if we were part of an omnipotent being,” I said. “Would you? Your skin cells are not aware that they are part of a human being. Skin cells are not equipped for that knowledge. They are equipped to do what they do and nothing more. Likewise, if we humans—and all the plants and animals and dirt and rocks—were components of God, would we have the capacity to know it?” “So, you’re saying God blew himself to bits—I guess that was the Big Bang—and now he’s piecing himself back together?” I asked. “He is discovering the answer to his only question.” “Does God have consciousness yet? Does he know he’s reassembling himself?” “He does. Otherwise you could not have asked the question, and I could not have answered.”