The Shakyas have it right. It all begins with the root of desire, made naked and absurd. Toss it away. Spit it out. Scorn it. Serenity and wisdom is the product.
The drink does not leave you. It drowns you.
Niccolo Machiavelli
January 1st, 2010
When evening comes I return to the house and go into my study. Before I enter I take off my rough mud-stained country dress. I put on my royal and curial robes and thus fittingly attired I enter into the assembly of men of old times. Welcomed by them I feed upon that food which is my true nourishment, and which has made me what I am. I dare to talk with them, and ask them the reason for their actions. Of their kindness they answer me. I no longer fear poverty or death.