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After a pause he added, "Art is noble, the noblest thing in the world.". What is art? Nobility is art, and that is the only thing that is immortal, as Beethoven said, 'There are many lords, but there is only one Beethoven'. What royal nobles, are temporarily flying, passing clouds, that is not noble. I'm talking about spiritual nobility. Not everyone can understand it, just as not everyone can climb Mount Everest. Mount Qomolangma, for example, is cold, lonely, with thin air and few people. No matter how the ups and downs of history change and how noisy the world is, it still stands nobly, unmoved, looking down and listening to this ridiculous world. People sometimes forget it, and ordinary people may never be able to find it, but no king or dignitary can look up to it, no muddy water can destroy it or bury it, it is white, only the sky is its background,temperature screening kiosk, only the sunshine and wind can get close to it, the sunshine and wind make it more brilliant and majestic. It looks down at you, who let you mix in this vulgar crowd? You'll just have to go towards it. You can climb to it, or it will conquer you, or you will conquer it, which is noble. To conquer it, no matter what, with your noble spirit to conquer them,information kiosk price, no matter what you will be a noble conqueror. w w w/xiao shu otx t.com Retreat Notes-2 Novel txt Paradise The painter's eyes sank into his own dreams. It took him a while to wake up. "What did you just ask me?" "No, I didn't ask anything." "What were we talking about just now?" "Love." "Yes, love.". Love is the same, must be worship, worship and … And "Conquer." "The voice is too flat," o said. What, are you tired? "Oh, no." Fortunately, it was dark and Z couldn't see o's expression. Are you a little cold? "Maybe it is." We should go back. They walked back together. The ripples of the river dimmed, and only the constant gurgling could be heard. Yes, conquest. The painter continued. But, but that's not by power and force. But with your inner strength, with your noble spirit.. To conquer.. Hey, have you ever heard that Borodin piece? The opera about King Eagle's expedition? "What country?" "Never mind which country.". It's not like you asked. You don't look like someone who doesn't understand art. It doesn't matter what era it is. "Opera?" "Yes, you just have to remember that it's a story of a king's expedition." "Which man?" Said Z. "The King Eagle. He was defeated and captured. The enemy said that he could be released on the condition that he promised not to fight against them again. But this could not be agreed to, and King Eagle refused the humiliating offer. "His look, temperature scanning kiosks ,face recognition identification kiosk, you know," said Z, "or his posture, shocked the enemy. Do you understand? It's not simply death over surrender, it's not the kind of hysterical shouting you see in movies, or shouting without dignity, or putting on a stiff posture and daring yourself with a sneer. No, it's definitely not that. In my mind, the king just said, 'No, it's not okay.' It's like talking to his men. It's like telling his entourage, 'No, this can't be done.'. Because he was born like this, he was born to know nothing but noble people, he was unfortunately captured, but this does not mean that anyone can insult him, he did not know that the defeated should have any special language, he was born with the habit of a king. His only regret was that his voice was not as rich and round as it used to be because of the fatigue of the war, and he might be sorry to tidy up his clothes. As for the enemy's conditions? It's like a request made by an ignorant child. It's enough to say'No, no 'to him, even if you look up to them. "Have you seen it?" "What?" "This opera?" "I heard it.". In that music you can hear all his image, his noble manner, his noble habits and his history.
He won the admiration of his enemies with his noble will, and Borowitz Khan ordered his subjects to sing and dance for King Igor. I'm talking about the music at that time. On the wild prairie, the setting sun shines, King Eagle, the defeated man of the world, enjoys the respect of his seemingly stronger enemy, enjoys the songs and dances offered by the subjects of the enemy country.. He paused for a moment, perhaps to calm his mood, perhaps to listen to the music or sounds of nature that were far away and vast. The sky was full of the stars of the summer night. "King Eagle," said Z. "He is the true conqueror, the Noble One. He is the true king." "Of course," added Z, "that Borovitz Khan is also a good and noble man, because … Because he knows what to worship. That's what I call worship and.. And conquer.. 199 That night the opera was played over and over again in the studio in Market Street. The story of King Eagle's expedition. Of course, it was not the old record on the gramophone that was turning, but the tape in the recorder. The old record left by my father did not escape the disaster of the Cultural Revolution. Z's love of the opera borders on paranoia and irrationality, and Z has at least three copies of its recordings and tapes. When you are depressed and proud, the first thing is to make it ring. Let it ring, and let the music resound heavily or warmly through his studio, when he can't think hard, or when he occasionally puts down his pen and thinks about it. At such times, I remember the painter sitting like a devout believer with his eyes closed, on the painted ground, for a long time, no matter late at night or early in the morning, he might suddenly jump up from the clangorous rhythm, or fall asleep in the vast melody. The melody of the night spread again in the market street, flowing through the empty stalls, as if stepping into the withered city from the wild grassland,thermal imaging camera, from the vigorous ancient times to the modern times. Listen, under the lamp and then in the moonlight, look at Z from time to time. hsdtouch.com
He won the admiration of his enemies with his noble will, and Borowitz Khan ordered his subjects to sing and dance for King Igor. I'm talking about the music at that time. On the wild prairie, the setting sun shines, King Eagle, the defeated man of the world, enjoys the respect of his seemingly stronger enemy, enjoys the songs and dances offered by the subjects of the enemy country.. He paused for a moment, perhaps to calm his mood, perhaps to listen to the music or sounds of nature that were far away and vast. The sky was full of the stars of the summer night. "King Eagle," said Z. "He is the true conqueror, the Noble One. He is the true king." "Of course," added Z, "that Borovitz Khan is also a good and noble man, because … Because he knows what to worship. That's what I call worship and.. And conquer.. 199 That night the opera was played over and over again in the studio in Market Street. The story of King Eagle's expedition. Of course, it was not the old record on the gramophone that was turning, but the tape in the recorder. The old record left by my father did not escape the disaster of the Cultural Revolution. Z's love of the opera borders on paranoia and irrationality, and Z has at least three copies of its recordings and tapes. When you are depressed and proud, the first thing is to make it ring. Let it ring, and let the music resound heavily or warmly through his studio, when he can't think hard, or when he occasionally puts down his pen and thinks about it. At such times, I remember the painter sitting like a devout believer with his eyes closed, on the painted ground, for a long time, no matter late at night or early in the morning, he might suddenly jump up from the clangorous rhythm, or fall asleep in the vast melody. The melody of the night spread again in the market street, flowing through the empty stalls, as if stepping into the withered city from the wild grassland,thermal imaging camera, from the vigorous ancient times to the modern times. Listen, under the lamp and then in the moonlight, look at Z from time to time. hsdtouch.com
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