Every time I wake, I understand how easy it is to be nothing.
The flower that you hold in your hands was born today and already it is as old as you are.
When I believe in nothing, I do not want to meet you when you believe in nothing.
When I break any of the chains that bind me I feel that I make myself smaller.
Human suffering, while it is asleep, is shapeless. If it is wakened it takes the form of the waker.
Nothing is not only nothing. It is also our prison.