We will be thankful and grateful. Not even the last thing that is done for us shall be forgotten.
You only lose that which you cling to.
For soon the body is discarded, Then what does it feel? A useless log of wood, it lies on the ground, Then what does it know? Your worst enemy cannot harm you As much as your own thoughts, unguarded. But once mastered, No one can help you as much, Not even your father or your mother.
Our life is shaped by our mind; we become what we think.
As long as one feels that he is the doer, he cannot escape from the wheel of births.
Pain is certain, suffering is optional.