Zen is poetry; poetry is Zen.

Things have done their part; it is for us to do ours.

Think of Zen, of the Void, of Good and Evil and you are bound hand and foot. Think only and entirely and completely of what you are doing at the moment and you are free as a bird.

Any enlightenment which requires to be authenticated, certified, recognized, congratulated, is (as yet) a false, or at least incomplete one.

We that change, hate change. And we that pass, love what abides. Ashes, darkness, dust.

Regarding R. H. Blyth: Two men who may be called pillars of the Western haiku movement, Harold G. Henderson and R. H. Blyth. . . .

The importance and unimportance of the self cannot be exaggerated.