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Many Lives, Many Masters: The True Story of a Prominent Psychiatrist, His Young Patient, and the Past Life Therapy That Changed Both Their Lives

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Brian L. Weiss

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“Dream of Freedom There’s a dream in the land With its back against the wall. By muddled names and strange Sometimes the dream is called. There are those who claim This dream for theirs alone— A sin for which, we know They must atone. Unless shared in common Like sunlight and like air, The dream will die for lack Of substance anywhere. The dream knows no frontier or tongue, The dream no class or race. The dream cannot be kept secure In any one locked place. This dream today embattled, With its back against the wall— To save the dream for one, It must be saved for ALL.”

PoetryFreedomPoemAfrican AmericansBlacksSegregationBrown V Board Of Education
Book:Good Morning, Revolution: Uncollected Social Protest Writings
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“I am just going outside and may be some time.’ The others nod, pretending not to know. At the heart of the ridiculous, the sublime. He leaves them reading and begins to climb, Goading his ghost into the howling snow; He is just going outside and may be some time. The tent recedes beneath its crust of rime And frostbite is replaced by vertigo: At the heart of the ridiculous, the sublime. Need we consider it some sort of crime, This numb self-sacrifice of the weakest? No, He is just going outside and may be some time In fact, for ever. Solitary enzyme, Though the night yield no glimmer there will glow, At the heart of the ridiculous, the sublime. He takes leave of the earthly pantomime Quietly, knowing it is time to go. ‘I am just going outside and may be some time.’ At the heart of the ridiculous, the sublime." A poem by – Derek Mahon”

ArtPoemPoemsEpilogue
Author:Derek Mahon
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“That night, the Raka conspirators had plenty of news to report, particularly Ochobu. Aly had not known that the mages of the Chain had been laboring to eliminate any mages who had worked magic on the Crown’s behalf. So far they had killed seven of the most powerful. Chelaol would call this count of the dead another ‘good start,’ Aly thought grimly. This crude business of counting up lives taken struck her as a bad idea. It took the horror from death. When Ochobu named four mages on Lombyn who had had been killed in the streets of their towns, it had been about numbers, not lives. Maybe this is how you become a Rittevon, she thought. You get used to the dead being described as numbers, not fathers or daughters or grandparents. She turned to Dove when Ochobu finished, 'don’t ever be like this,' she urged. 'don’t think that it doesn’t matter if you only hear of murder as a number. If you keep it at a distance.”

LifeDeathMurder
Book:Trickster's Queen
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