Like the bee, we distill poison from honey for our self-defense--what happens to the bee if it uses its sting is well known.

I have only my own burden to bear.

We all have within us a center of stillness surrounded by silence.

Do not seek death. Death will find you. But seek the road which makes death a fulfillment.

Like wind-- In it, with it, of it. Of it just like a sail, so light and strong that, even when it is bent flat, it gathers all the power of the wind without hampering its course. Like light-- In light, lit through by light, transformed into light. Like the lens which disappears in the light it focuses. Like wind. Like light. Just this--on these expanses, on these heights.

Do not seek death. Death will find you.

Be grateful as your deeds become less and less associated with your name, as your feet ever more lightly tread the earth.