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Text in the showcase:

One hundred and ten years have passed since our death, and forty years since the dissolution of our dervish order. We were supposedly an incorrigible nest of heretics and devils in the service of the Persians, yet you have us before you. And why? Because we were painted in the European way! As you can see in this vitrine, we two dervishes went from town to town in the land of our sultan. Barefoot, with shaved heads, half naked, with deerskin vests on our bodies, belts around our waists, sharpened sticks in our hands, and one of us carrying a lumberjack’s axe, the other a spoon to eat what God gave us.

From the novel „My Name is Red“:

While the Frank infidel was making our picture, he gazed at us so sweetly and with such attention to detail that we took a liking to him and enjoyed being depicted by him. But, he was committing the error of looking at the world with his naked eye and rendering what he saw. Thus, he drew us as if we were blind although we could see just fine, but we didn’t mind. Now, we’re quite content, indeed. According to the Hoja, we’re in Hell; according to some unbelievers we’re nothing but decayed corpses and according to you, the intelligent society of miniaturists gathered here, we’re a picture, and because we’re a picture, we stand here before you as though we were alive and well.