The man who has a taste for quietism
Looks into the white clouds and hazy crags,
and becomes intimate with the mysterious.
The man who runs after the magnificent
Watches sublime dances and beautiful chants,
and forgets all fatigue.
Only for the man who is satisfied with himself
Is there neither tumult or quiet,
Neither the magnificent nor the withered.
There is no place he can go that is not appropriate for him.
----Hung Ying-ming---
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