The career of a sage is of two kinds: He is either honored by all in the world, Like a flower waving its head, Or else he disappears into the silent forest.
Weapons are ominous tools. They are abhorred by all creatures. Anyone who follows the Way shuns them.
Spokes unite in the hub of a wheel.
Mask your brightness. Be at one with the dust of the earth. This is primal union.
Let your workings remain a mystery. Just show people the results.
If people live in constant fear of death, and if breaking the law is punished by death, then who would dare?