When I die, I will not see myself die, for the first time.

When everything is finished, the mornings are sad.

Without this ridiculous vanity that takes the form of self-display, and is part of everything and everyone, we would see nothing, and nothing would exist.

My final belief is suffering. And I begin to believe that I do not suffer.

I have been my own disciple and my own master. And I have been a good disciple but a bad master.

In a full heart there is room for everything, and in an empty heart there is room for nothing.

A door opens to me. I go in and am faced with a hundred closed doors.