The desire to break the silence with constant human noise is, I believe, precisely an avoidance of the sacred terror of that divine encounter.

Sadly, I part from you; Like a clam torn from its shell, I go, and autumn too.

There is nothing you can see that is not a flower; there is nothing you can think that is not the moon.

The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.

Don't imitate me / we are not two halves / of a muskmelon.

Without bitterest cold that penetrates to the very bone, how can plum blossoms send forth their fragrance all over the world?

I am one who eats breakfast gazing at morning glories.