I had a discussion with a great master in Japan… and we were talking about the various people who are working to translate the Zen books into English, and he said, “That’s a waste of time. If you really understand Zen… you can use any book. You could use the Bible. You could use Alice in Wonderland. You could use the dictionary, because… the sound of the rain needs no translation.”
A small boy looked at a star and began to weep. The star said “Boy, why are you weeping?” And the boy said “You are so far away, I will never be able to touch you.” And the star answered, “Boy if I were not already in your heart, you would not be able to see me.”
”How many times have you encountered the saying, ‘When the student is ready, the Master appears?’ Do you know why that is true? The door opens inward. The Master is everywhere, but the student has to open his mind to hear the Masters voice.”
~ Robert Anton Wilson
“Each one of us is alone in the world. He is shut in a tower of brass, and can communicate with his fellows only by signs, and the signs have no common value, so that their sense is vague and uncertain. We seek pitifully to convey to others the treasures of our heart, but they have not the power to accept them, and so we go lonely, side by side but not together, unable to know our fellows and unknown by them. We are like people living in a country whose language they know so little that, with all manner of beautiful and profound things to say, they are condemned to the banalities of the conversation manual. Their brain is seething with ideas, and they can only tell you that the umbrella of the gardener’s aunt is in the house.”
—W. Somerset Maugham, from The Moon and Sixpence (William Heinemann, 1919)
”The destiny of every human being is to destroy the veil that hides
his own ‘Self.’ To realize this ‘Self’ means to realize God,
and to realize God is to realize one’s own ‘Self.’
~ Sri Anandamayi Ma ॐ ♥
I have no right to call myself one who knows. I was one who seeks, and I still am, but I no longer seek in the stars or in the books; I’m beginning to hear the teachings of my blood pulsing within me. My story isn’t pleasant, It’s not sweet and harmonious like invented stories; It tastes of folly and bewilderment, of madness and dream, like the life of all people who no longer want to lie to themselves.
~ Hermann Hesse
Tears of sorrow caress me to sleep.
In its calming touch my broken heart cringe.
Each drop come to liberate for the morning sun.