Letting go of our suffering is the hardest work we will ever do.

We are the same as plants, as trees, as other people, as the rain that falls. We consist of that which is around us, we are the same as everything.

Only those who go where few have gone can see what few have seen.

If you knew what I know about the power of giving, you would not let a single meal pass without sharing it in some way.

Whatever the hateful do to the hateful, or an enemy to an enemy, worse is the harm of a misguided mind directed at oneself.

What is the appropriate behavior for a man or a woman in the midst of this world, where each person is clinging to his piece of debris? What's the proper salutation between people as they pass each other in this flood?

And so, with a boundless heart should one cherish all living beings.