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CHAPTER 1.

Ahhh!... so beautiful... the white chrysanthemum. Aahhh, so beautiful. Words are so poor. I cannot
describe what is being brought to me.

The white chrysanthemum.

No one spoke.

The host,

the guest,

the white chrysanthemum.

Good. Because of this beauty, my ears are incapable of even hearing the noise, my eyes are filling
with tears.

Tears are the only words the unknown can speak,

the language of silence.

Books I Have Loved 5 Osho

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