As a bee without harming the flower, its colour or scent, flies away, collecting only the honey, even so should the sage wander in the village.

The fool says, "These are my sons, this is my land, this is my money." In reality, the fool does not own himself, much less sons, land, or money.

How long the night to the watchman, How long the road to the weary traveller, How long the wandering of many lives To the fool who misses the way.

Be a lamp unto yourselves! Work out your liberation with diligence! Fill your mind with compassion!

The mind is the source of happiness and unhappiness.

The gift of Truthovercomes all gifts.The joy of Truthovercomes all pleasures.The taste of Truthovercomes all sweetness.

Bring your mind to noble silence. Unify your mind in noble silence. Concentrate your mind in noble silence... Enter into rapture and pleasure born of silence derived of concentration and awareness that is free from thought and fabrication.