In an era when an overheard word or intercepted signal could bring death and destruction — silence became the most powerful language. In the Japan of centuries past, there were those who perfected this language. The shinobi — far removed from Hollywood fantasies of ninjas in black suits and whirling shuriken — were masters of hidden communication, agents of shadow for whom an ordinary branch, stone, or knot in a rope conveyed more than entire volumes of commands. They could signal retreat through smoke made from noroshi (a mix of wolf droppings and pine needles), encode escape routes in the arrangement of twigs along a path, and in the most desperate situations — carve a message into their own skulls and let their hair grow over the secret.
Ninjutsu was not a martial art. It was the art of seeing. While the armies of the daimyō raised their banners and blew their horns, shinobi laid twigs along the slopes of Iga, left stones as markers of silent maps, and tied ropes with knots encoded according to the musubi code. Their goal was not to win by force, but to survive, infiltrate, observe, and return — with information that could decide the fate of a war.
Today’s article will be an attempt to explore this ancient language, based on surviving texts of the major schools of ninjutsu — such as the Bansenshūkai from Iga, the Shōninki from Kii, and the Ninpiden from Kōga — as well as the historical realities of the eras in which the shinobi truly operated. It is a story of semiotics forged in secrecy, developed over centuries in the shadow of castles and mountain passes, where every blade of grass and every shadow could be a sign. We will speak of kunai — not merely as agricultural tools or weapons, but as carriers of secret reports. Of marked stones and special ropes, of smoke signals that conveyed messages across vast distances, and of the philosophy that underpinned the actions of the Japanese intelligence service now known as the “ninja.” For their practice was part of a broader way of thinking about the world. To them, the landscape was a text — one not only to be read, but to be written. A branch, a stone, a rope, a trampled patch of grass, or a broken bamboo stalk — all could bear meaning. This is what traditional schools taught — not only how to fight, but how to converse with one’s surroundings, how to leave traces for those who knew how to read them. Let us try, then — to read.
Although the modern imagination most often places the shinobi amid the feudal battles of the Sengoku era or leaping by night across the rooftops of Edo residences, the roots of this profession reach far deeper — to the foundations of human civilization itself. Shinobi (忍び), meaning “one who sneaks” or “one who endures in secrecy,” was originally not the name of an organization or social class, but rather a description of a function — the profession of a spy, a scout, a silent observer. In this sense, the shinobi belong to the oldest professions in the world — alongside priests, warriors, and courtesans — for wherever there has been competition, there has also been a need for the hidden gathering of information (we explore more on these themes here: Ninja in Retirement - What Happened to Shinobi During the Peaceful Edo Period?).
In Japanese historical sources, traces of activities corresponding to what we now call shinobi can already be found during the Heian period (794–1185). At that time, the imperial court in Kyōto and influential aristocratic families such as the Fujiwara, Minamoto, and Taira engaged in intense political games filled with intrigue, eavesdropping, and actions beyond official structures. Sources mention secret agents (kanja), infiltrators, and messengers who moved throughout Japan unnoticed, delivering reports, letters, and sometimes poisoned blades. In the area of modern-day Kansai (especially in the provinces of Iga and Yamato), local warrior communities were already developing in the 10th and 11th centuries — groups that did not hold aristocratic status but possessed survival skills, reconnaissance abilities, and irregular combat techniques. In time, these communities would form the foundation of the organized shinobi tradition (the kind we now associate with Iga).
The Kamakura period (1185–1333) and the following Muromachi period (1336–1573) provided fertile ground for the development of these techniques. During this time, Japan became a battlefield of conflicts between military families ruling under the shogunate and powerful local clans. It was then that the concept of the shinobi-no-mono emerged — a person who not only gathered information but could also act from the shadows: sabotage, infiltrate, fight, disappear. These were not yet “ninja” in the modern sense, but their role was already clearly defined and respected — sometimes despised, sometimes desired.
It was only the chaos of the Sengoku period (ca. 1467–1600) that created conditions in which the shinobi could evolve into clearly defined operational groups. During this era, the struggle for power reached a national scale, and each side — from major daimyō to smaller local forces — needed field agents. It was in this period that two shinobi centers rose to particular fame: the provinces of Iga and Kōga (now part of Mie and Shiga Prefectures). The clans of these regions formed highly organized communities specializing in reconnaissance, diversion, sabotage, intelligence, and information protection. These were not, however, uniform organizations — “Iga-ryū” and “Kōga-ryū” (schools) are later terms, used to categorize the diverse local lines of transmission and practice. At the time, they were elusive, “defiant peasants and savages from Iga,” or “dark mercenaries” from Kōga.
(more about the shinobi of Iga — this unique “experiment” of social commune in feudal Japan can be read here: Iga Province: The Independent Ninja Republic and People's Commune in the Era of the Samurai).
It is important, however, not to reduce the history of the shinobi only to Iga and Kōga. At the same time, many other groups and initiatives existed, operating by different principles and in different regions. For example (and many more could be listed):
▫ Hayate no mono — the “wind demons” from the Shinano region, known for lightning-fast reconnaissance and mobility in mountainous terrain.
▫ Shiranui — operating in the Kyūshū area, specializing in maritime operations and infiltration through ports.
▫ Onna-bugeisha ninja (a general and modern term) — female reconnaissance units, the most famous of which was the formation created by Mochizuki Chiyome in the 16th century. She is said to have recruited young women for espionage, diplomatic, and even medical missions, operating under the cover of priestesses, geisha, or nurses (more about the founder of this organization can be found in the book Silne kobiety Japonii).
▫ Tappa — loosely affiliated networks of wandering monks, pilgrims, and actors (sarugaku), who, beyond their official roles, gathered information while traveling the country without raising suspicion.
▫ Rappa — no longer a single unit but an entire division dedicated to sabotage and psychological disruption, led by the legendary Fūma Kotarō — more about them can be read here: The Third School of Shinobi: The Battle-Breaker and Master of Chaos, Fūma Kotarō and His "Wind Demons" Ninja Brigade
(we have a separate article that describes in more detail the operations and differences among various shinobi “schools” here: Ninja Are Not Just Iga and Kōga – Discover 10 Shinobi Clans from Different Eras and Regions)
We also know of individual shinobi who served specific clans. The most famous example — also in pop culture — is that of Hattori Hanzō, who served Tokugawa Ieyasu. He came from a family with shinobi traditions in Iga, but he also held the role of an officer and commander of the guard. Unfortunately, his figure is often excessively mythologized — the real Hanzō was a loyal servant of the shogunate, a samurai under Tokugawa Ieyasu, and a talented organizer, not a mythical warrior of the shadows.
After the Battle of Sekigahara (1600) and the establishment of the Tokugawa shogunate, a new era began — the Edo period (1603–1868) — a time of peace, control, and centralization. In this system, the need for shinobi did not disappear but transformed. Traditional combat missions gave way to internal surveillance, monitoring of public sentiment, and observation of activities in other domains. The shinobi became somewhat akin to internal security forces — more on ninja in the Edo period can be read here: Ninja in Retirement - What Happened to Shinobi During the Peaceful Edo Period?.
Some han (domains) employed their own shinobi as part of internal administration, for example:
▫ The Mito clan (one of the three main Tokugawa lines) maintained a permanent group of shinobi to monitor anti-government activities and protect borders.
▫ The Tottori han employed special couriers and field agents who served as shinobi under the local daimyō’s command.
▫ The Kii han recruited shinobi for reconnaissance missions and the protection of trade routes in mountainous regions.
Over time, the practice of shinobi began to fade, although some of their techniques were adapted for use in modern military and police formations — primarily as forms of reconnaissance and camouflage. Eventually, with the fall of the shogunate during the Meiji Restoration (1868), the shinobi structures either dissolved or were completely transformed.
What we most often associate with “ninja” today is but a shadow of their true history — shaped by later tales, kabuki theater, ukiyo-e woodblock prints, and twentieth-century cinema. The real shinobi were above all professionals of intelligence — scouts who could read the landscape, remain silent, move unnoticed, and analyze. Their story is not one of magic, but of intelligence, discretion, and survival.
Today we will examine another slice of their remarkable history and technique — their methods of communication. Let us return, then, to the bloody Sengoku period of the 16th century, when a multi-generational war of “every man against every man” raged — it was then that shinobi “schools” reached their peak.
In a world where every leaked message could mean death, shinobi had to master not only the art of silence but also the art of conveying information without words. For them, communication was as vital as camouflage or combat skills. Shinobi operated under conditions of extreme danger — deep within enemy territory, often far from their own forces, without the possibility of direct contact. Under such circumstances, they developed an entire arsenal of methods for transmitting signals, signs, and messages: from light signals and colored objects to specially prepared mixtures that produced smoke. Each of these methods had its own advantages, limitations, and specific applications, and their mastery was part of the broad discipline of ninjutsu (忍術) — the art of covert action.
Traditional shinobi schools, such as Iga-ryū (伊賀流) and Kōga-ryū (甲賀流), treated communication as a distinct field of training, known as shinobi no jutsu (忍びの術) — techniques of secret activity. Within this discipline, they were taught not only how to move unseen, but also how to transmit commands, warnings, or strategic information to other members of their unit, often without uttering a single word. Some of these techniques were described in documents such as the Bansenshūkai (萬川集海, 1676), the classic compendium of shinobi knowledge from Iga, or the earlier Shōninki (正忍記, 1681) by Natori Masazumi of the Kishu-ryū. It is from these sources, along with oral transmissions, that we have detailed descriptions of methods for encoding information — allowing us today to understand how a silent war was waged in the shadows.
#1 The Language of Smoke
One of the oldest and most spectacular communication methods used by shinobi was the deployment of smoke signals, known in Japanese as noroshi. This practice was not limited exclusively to shinobi — it was also used by conventional feudal armies of Japan — but the shinobi developed it into a more subtle and mobile form.
Noroshi literally means “wolf smoke” (狼煙), a name referring to one of the most effective and distinctive smoke mixtures used by shinobi: wolf droppings mixed with pine needles or other resinous plant materials. This composition produced thick smoke that was visible from afar and had a distinctive scent — which could also serve as an identification code for those initiated. The mixtures were selected to ensure that the smoke was durable and would not disperse quickly in the wind. In addition to organic components, mineral powders were used to give the smoke color — for example, copper or sulfur oxides.
Shinobi did not limit themselves to a single plume of smoke — the number, length, and intervals between signals carried specific meanings. In systems such as hi-ōgi no jutsu (火扇の術 — the technique of fire fans) or noroshi no hō (狼煙の法 — smoke methods), entire alphabets of signals were developed. For instance:
▫ One short signal – “I am in position”
▫ Two signals with a pause – “Danger nearby”
▫ Three short signals – “The enemy is moving”
▫ One long signal – “Impassable”
Depending on the region, these codes could vary — which is why there also existed systems of local signal dialects (kuni no noroshi), designed to avoid misinterpretation by unfamiliar agents.
Smoke signals were extremely useful, but also very risky — they worked only with good visibility, preferably in the mountains or valleys with designated observation points. They also had to be decoded instantly, before the enemy could spot them. That’s why noroshi was often used as the prelude to an operation: once the scout confirmed the presence of the target, a smoke signal would initiate the maneuver of an assault unit or a retreat — when it was already too late for the enemy to respond, even if the signal was seen.
In ninjutsu doctrine, smoke was also treated symbolically — as an element of transformation (henka 変化), allowing the shinobi to conceal their identity, move unnoticed, and disappear from view. There were also known techniques of mobile smoking (kemuri-jutsu) — creating a smoke screen to mask the direction of escape or disorient the enemy, which was used in combat situations but also during the transmission of encoded messages (a technique familiar to us from countless anime, films, and games).
In operations stretched over large areas — such as monitoring the march of enemy troops — shinobi would set up makeshift smoke points on mountain ridges, arranged in a chain. Each agent was responsible for relaying the received signal further, creating an information chain functioning like a “delayed lantern.” Similar chains were also used by the Tokugawa shogunate forces during the Edo period, though they were eventually replaced by more official watchtowers (yagura).
In documents such as the Bansenshūkai, smoke techniques are described as an indispensable element of field operations for shinobi, especially during times of political turmoil and irregular warfare. They combined strategy, chemistry, meteorology, and discipline — proof that war was waged not only with the sword, but with signs understood only by the chosen few.
#2. The Language of the Landscape
In shinobi operations, silence was foundational, and the landscape — a message board. Before paper correspondence existed, or even before shinobi could rely on smoke or ink, they made use of what nature provided: branches, stones, cords. In the hands of the initiated, these became signs with precise meanings — a form of environmental semiotics readable only by those who knew its code.
As early as the Shōninki (正忍記, 1681) by Natori Masazumi — one of the most important ninjutsu manuals from the Kii domain — we find descriptions of mokuhyō no jutsu (目標の術), the art of marking direction and points in the terrain. Similarly, in the Bansenshūkai (萬川集海, 1676), the great encyclopedia of shinobi knowledge from Iga, there are mentions of leaving subtle signs in the natural environment. A diagonally placed branch, a cracked stone set beside a path, or a small cairn — each of these could carry a precise meaning: direction of march, rendezvous point, presence of danger, a signal of “clear” or “watched terrain.”
In ninjutsu, such signs were referred to as kuchiire (口入れ) — literally “insertion of the mouth” — meaning the replacement of speech with objects. Another term was shirushi (印) — a mark, a symbol. This term was also used in Buddhism and esoteric practices, and the shinobi adapted it to the language of wartime signals.
In shinobi practice across the mountainous terrains of Iga, Kōga, and Shinano, where voice communication was impossible or too dangerous, branches were placed diagonally or parallel to the path. For example:
▫ A branch parallel to the road — safe path, proceed.
▫ A branch placed crosswise — do not proceed, danger or ambush.
▫ Two branches in a “V” shape — a fork in the road, with further direction depending on additional signs.
Stones also had their meanings:
▫ A stone turned face-down — territory controlled by the enemy.
▫ A small cairn of three stones — contact point, location for leaving a message.
▫ A stone with a notch or scratch pointing in a certain direction — an arrow, direction of movement, often synchronized with another sign within a 50–100 meter radius.
These signs were not obvious to outsiders but clear to insiders who had previously agreed upon the katatsuke (形付け) — the “marking pattern.” Such patterns were passed on within the ryū (school) and could even be personalized by shinobi units operating together.
An even more subtle and refined method was communication using cords with encoded knots, referred to in shinobi tradition as a form of musubi no jutsu (結びの術). The word musubi (結び) literally means “knot” or “binding,” and in Japanese culture it carries rich symbolic meaning — from marriage and bonds to the transmission of power or blessings.
In the context of shinobi, musubi became a form of physical cipher. A short cord, with knots tied according to a specific code, could convey information about: the number of enemies, direction of march, need for support, mission status (completed/incomplete), or the time and place of contact or gathering.
In some variants, different types of knots were used:
▫ A flat knot — signified agreement, safety.
▫ A twisted knot — danger or ambush.
▫ A double alternating knot — signal to retreat or change course.
This technique is somewhat reminiscent of the quipu system used by the Inca — cords and knots containing numerical data or messages. In the case of shinobi, however, they were not tied to accounting but to situational tactics and secret information. In Japanese spy literature, these techniques were sometimes referred to as himotsuki no hō (紐付きの法) — the “method of the cord.”
Message cords were often tied in hidden locations: beneath protruding stones, on trees near paths, in hollows, under the eaves of abandoned huts or temples. They were resistant to weather and difficult for outsiders to notice. In the late Edo period, special cords made of raw silk were also used, being less susceptible to mold and degradation.
All of these practices were part of a broader way of thinking the shinobi had about the world. For them, the landscape was a text — not only to be read, but to be written upon. A branch, a stone, a cord, trampled grass, or a broken bamboo stalk — everything could bear meaning. This is what traditional schools taught — not only how to fight, but how to speak with one’s surroundings, how to leave traces for those who knew how to read them.
The ability to read such signals and employ them was part of advanced training, known as shinobi no michi (忍びの道) — “the path of the shinobi.” The skill of conveying a message without writing, without speech, and even without eye contact — using only a subtle shift in a natural element — was an art requiring years of practice and a deep familiarity with the terrain of operations.
#3. Encoded Words
During operations deep within enemy territory — at night, in wild terrain, or against the backdrop of anonymous villages — recognizing an ally could mean the difference between life and death. Shinobi operated alone or in small groups, often with little knowledge of their companions’ appearance or origin. In such cases, a system of passwords and countersigns was used, based on associations difficult to guess by accident. In shinobi tradition, this technique was known as aikotoba no hō (合言葉の法) — “the method of ciphered words.”
Instead of simple identifiers, pairs of words were used, linked in a way known only to the initiated. Similar methods, of course, are familiar from our own European history.
In many shinobi schools, it was taught that a password must never be repeated more than once, and the countersign had to be delivered immediately — failure to respond meant exposure. Delay could indicate an enemy — or even betrayal. In high-risk situations, single-day passwords were established, changed each evening (these nuances are mentioned explicitly in the Bansenshūkai manual).
A similar system was used by security services during the Edo period, when shinobi performed supervisory and intelligence functions within the shogunate’s domains. In such cases, the passwords were more formal, and the responses officially coded. Sometimes, identification was not only verbal, but also physical — a hand gesture, the feel of a material (e.g., the number of folds in a sash), or even the arrangement of a sandal’s strap. This period, however, is heavily mixed with the myths of late Edo (a kind of 19th-century pop culture), making the task of separating history from fantasy difficult — a challenge that Japanese historians continue to face to this day.
#4. The Language of Flags
When eyesight was the only connection between units scattered across the terrain, shinobi employed visual techniques that allowed them to transmit information from afar without sound and without the risk of interception. One such method was the technique called mekiki-no-koto (目利の事) — literally “the matter of visual discernment,” a form of coded flag communication.
Documents from the Kōga-ryū school mention the use of fans, pennants, or pieces of cloth raised from high points (trees, hills, watchtowers), which were operated in specific ways according to a prearranged cipher. This practice resembled later semaphore systems and was, in fact, a precursor to the “flag code” used in Japan’s modern military.
Depending on the school and region, the codes could differ. In some cases, the system relied on:
▫ Number of flag lifts (e.g., one lift — affirmation; two — danger),
▫ Duration held (short = immediate action, long = wait),
▫ Angle of inclination (horizontal, vertical, diagonal),
▫ Color of material (e.g., white — “clear,” red — “enemy,” blue — “march”).
Shinobi could operate in a chain — for example, one agent on a mountain pass would transmit a signal visible from a second point, and that from a third. This created an observation chain that could transmit information across many kilometers within minutes. In ninjutsu, this was known as tetsudō no renraku (鉄道の連絡) — “communication along the route” — a sequence of communication points.
This technique was especially useful in broad valleys, such as those in the Kai region (modern-day Yamanashi Prefecture), where the forces of Takeda Shingen operated. The shinobi in his intelligence service (known for their own flag system) were said to operate even in nighttime conditions — in such cases, they used lamps covered by hand or cloth, emitting light flashes instead of flag movements.
During the Edo period, when shinobi assumed more administrative roles, simplified versions of this method were also used in training and as alarm systems — for example, in the event of fires or the appearance of suspicious groups near castles.
Flag signals thus formed yet another kind of nonverbal shinobi language — based on light, motion, and rhythm, but fully integrated with the topography of the land and a symbolic system established within the school.
#5. The Language of the Kunai
In the modern imagination, the kunai appears almost exclusively as a weapon — thrown, piercing, deadly (we know it as the iconic tool of Scorpion from Mortal Kombat, or as featured prominently in Naruto). Yet in actual shinobi practice, the kunai (苦無) had far broader, more functional applications. It was above all a utility tool — used for prying up floorboards, carving into walls, climbing, or digging into the ground. And it was precisely in this technical-engineering function that its potential as a carrier of covert communication lay.
In traditional ninjutsu manuals such as the Bansenshūkai and the Ninpiden, the kunai is not listed as an offensive weapon — instead, it appears in the context of sabotaging locks, dismantling parts of structures, and, most significantly, leaving behind hidden messages. This included:
▫ Hollowing out the handle to insert a small scroll of parchment or cloth (known as shikigami – 紙神, “paper of the gods,” which in shinobi language often meant an encoded message)
▫ Carving marks (shirushi – 印) onto the shaft or flat blade of the kunai — these could include directional signs, numbers, or unit initials
▫ Using the kunai to pass messages through a wall or gate — especially in siege conditions or when operating within a castle
There were known techniques in which a shinobi would draw a cord attached to a kunai bearing a message through a crack in a wall, a drainage channel, or between roof tiles — enabling contact between individuals separated by walls.
Thus, the kunai was not a “ninja knife” in the strict sense, but a multifunctional field tool which — in the hands of a shinobi — could become an effective channel for transmitting secret information.
#6. The Language of the Body
In situations of absolute necessity, when no paper, courier, or material carrier could be trusted, the shinobi resorted to the ultimate method — encoding the message onto their own skin. This was a brutal technique, demanding resolve and long-term planning, known in some oral traditions as harakure no hō (肌隠れの法) — “the method of concealment in the flesh.”
It involved:
Though this method is not explicitly described in the Bansenshūkai or Shōninki, its existence is confirmed by oral traditions from several shinobi schools, including Kishu-ryū and certain accounts from Fūma-ryū. It was an extreme and dangerous technique — not only due to the pain and risk of infection, but also because capture meant inevitable exposure of the message’s contents.
For this reason, shinobi in such cases used pseudo-messages — for example, texts encoded within poetic forms (uta-gaki) or composed of symbols unreadable without a cipher. In extreme situations, if the messenger failed to arrive in time or faced torture, they were expected to destroy the skin containing the message — which meant death or permanent mutilation.
This method represented the most dramatic expression of a core ninjutsu principle: “Information is more valuable than life.” In the world of the shinobi, a word never spoken could change the course of a war — and a silent body with a secret written in the flesh was sometimes the most effective letter one could send.
With the end of the Edo period and the fall of the Tokugawa shogunate in 1868 (we write about those turbulent times here: The Republic of Ezo – A One-of-a-Kind Samurai Democracy), the role of shinobi in the structure of Japanese society came to an end. The Meiji Restoration brought sweeping changes: the dissolution of the old han domains, the abolition of samurai military forces, the introduction of a modern conscript army, and the centralization of the state in the Western model. In this new order, there was no longer a place for the hidden agents of the daimyō, operating outside the official military hierarchy. The final mentions of actual shinobi activity appear in the context of the bakumatsu wars — especially in the Kansai region and during incidents around Nijō Castle and the capital Kyōto — though their role was marginal and often confused with that of political assassins (shishi).
Yet this does not mean that the language of signs and silence they created has vanished completely.
In the Meiji and Taishō eras (late 19th and early 20th centuries), many methods of field reconnaissance and covert communication were absorbed into Japan’s military and intelligence structures. During the training of scouts and special units, simplified versions of environmental semiotics were used — recognizing directions through branch placement, marking with stones, transmitting messages without speech. Moreover, during the Russo-Japanese War (1904–1905), Japanese reconnaissance units (tokumu kikan) used some of these earlier techniques, such as hand gestures, smoke signals, and coded daily passwords. These were not direct continuations of ninjutsu, but elements drawn from the same spirit: effective non-verbal communication under threat.
The legacy of the shinobi also survives in less visible ways — as a philosophy of action. Ninjutsu is not only a set of techniques but a way of thinking: the maximum use of the environment, silence, the sign, and the body as tools of communication. The ability to convey information without words, without paper, without technology — these are skills that still find application today. In the modern world, some survival schools, field reconnaissance units, and special forces (even outside Japan) teach spatial orientation through marked terrain, placing branches in coded arrangements, or silent identification without using voice — often without realizing that their methods have roots in Iga, Kōga, or Shinano.
In Japan, the memory of the shinobi as masters of hidden communication lives on in local traditions, museums, and in the continuing training of certain ryūha schools of ninjutsu — though today these serve more as cultural heritage than operational espionage arts.
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未開 ソビエライ
An enthusiast of Asian culture with a deep appreciation for the diverse philosophies of the world. By education, a psychologist and philologist specializing in Korean studies. At heart, a programmer (primarily for Android) and a passionate technology enthusiast, as well as a practitioner of Zen and mono no aware. In moments of tranquility, adheres to a disciplined lifestyle, firmly believing that perseverance, continuous personal growth, and dedication to one's passions are the wisest paths in life. Author of the book "Strong Women of Japan" (>>see more)
"The most powerful force in the universe is compound interest." - Albert Einstein (probably)
未開 ソビエライ
An enthusiast of Asian culture with a deep appreciation for the diverse philosophies of the world. By education, a psychologist and philologist specializing in Korean studies. At heart, a programmer (primarily for Android) and a passionate technology enthusiast, as well as a practitioner of Zen and mono no aware. In moments of tranquility, adheres to a disciplined lifestyle, firmly believing that perseverance, continuous personal growth, and dedication to one's passions are the wisest paths in life. Author of the book "Strong Women of Japan" (>>see more)
"The most powerful force in the universe is compound interest." - Albert Einstein (probably)
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