What becomes of and what do I care about humanity, benevolence, modesty, temperance, tenderness, wisdom, piety, when half a pound of lead shot from 600 paces shatters my body, and I die at the age of twenty in agony beyond words, in the midst of five or six thousand dying men, while my eyes, opening for the last time, see the town in which I was born destroyed by sword and fire, and the last sounds I hear are the cries of women and children expiring under the ruins, all for the alleged benefit of a man I do not know?
— Voltaire, from “War” in Philosophical Dictionary (1764) translated by Theodore Besterman
Johnny Hammond Smith - Gears  [Prod. By Johnny “Hammond” Smith & Larry Mizell]
I explained that an animal is not born to carry another animal on its back. A man on a horse is as weird as a rat riding a rooster, a chicken riding a camel, a monkey riding a cow, or a dog riding a buffalo. A man on a horse is a scandal, an upsetting of the natural order of things, violent artificiality, dissonance, ugliness. They called on works of sculptors celebrating the equestrian. I laughed in their faces. Statues! Why art has always paid homage to convention—it was almost like fashion! Custom decides everything. For centuries we have looked at equestrian statues just as we have looked at men on horseback, but if we rubbed our eyes and looked afresh, we would scowl in distaste—because a horse’s back is no more a place for man than the back of a cow.
— Witold Gombrowicz, Diary (1953-1969) translated from the Polish by Lillian Vallee
Miles Davis—“Rated X”
Get Up With It (Columbia 1974).
“It occurred to me that I was unhappy. And it didn’t feel so very terrible. No urgency, nothing. I could slip out of my life on a slow wave like this—it didn’t matter. I don’t have to be happy. All I have to do is hold on to something and wait.”
- from Helen Oyeyemi’s Mr. Fox
Every man and woman I pass on the street feels trapped by the boundaries of their skin, but, in fact, they are delicate receiving instruments whose spirituality and corporality vibrate in one specific manner because they have been set at one specific pitch. Each of them bears within himself a multitude of souls and, I maintain, of bodies as well, but only one soul and one body are at their disposal, the others remaining unliberated. By changing civilizations, time continually liberates new souls and bodies in man, and thus time is not a serpent devouring its own tail, though ordinary men and women do not know this.
— Czeslaw Milosz, from Visions from San Francisco Bay (1975) translated from the Polish by Richard Lourie
Alvin Taylor at a salon getting a perm in Los Angeles, California, 1974
From UCLA Archives
A painted landscape undoubtedly says something else to us than does the same landscape in nature; its effect on our soul is different. But not because a painting is more beautiful than nature, no, a painting will always be incompetent beauty, beauty spoiled by the clumsy hand of man. It is possible, though, that this is the reason behind the attraction. The picture shows us the beauty that was felt, seen by someone like the painter. The picture not only says: “this landscape is beautiful,” but also: “I saw this and was struck by it and that is why I painted it.”
— Witold Gombrowicz, from Diary (1953-1969) translated by Lillian Vallee
Gang Starr - Mass Appeal  [Prod. By DJ Premier]
W.E.B Du Bois, Burghart Du Bois, and Nina Du Bois.