Translation is always a treason, and as a Ming author observes, can at its best be only the reverse side of a brocade- all the threads are there, but not the subtlety of colour or design.

A garden is a friend you can visit any time.

Perfection is everywhere if we only choose to recognise it.

Fain would we remain barbarians, if our claim to civilization were to be based on the gruesome glory of war.

Tea is a work of art and needs a master hand to bring out its noblest qualities. We have good and bad teas, as we have good and bad paintings - generally the latter.

Meanwhile, let us have a sip of tea. The afternoon glow is brightening the bamboos, the fountains are bubbling with delight, the soughing of the pines is heard in our kettle. Let us dream of evanescence, and linger in the beautiful foolishness of things.

Tea is more than an idealization of the form of drinking; it is a religion of the art of life.