Your not having perceived your own nature does not imply that you lack that nature — perception itself IS that nature....

Your Mind is the Buddha. The Buddha is Mind. Mind and Buddha are indivisible.

Your mind is like a magical gem manifesting all that is

Your Majesty relies too heavily on punishments. It would be appropriate to employ scholars.

Your life amounted to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean… yet what is any ocean but a multitude of drops.

your ideas mature gradually—let them grow, let them shape themselves, without undue haste. Don’t try to force them on… accept the anxiety of feeling yourself in suspense and incomplete.

Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honor.

Your eyes see like a blind man, your mouth speaks like a mute.

Your doubts are very helpful, very useful... if you had no doubt, you all would become jellyfish. You would be like flocks of pigeons or sheep.

Your days are numbered. Use them to throw open the windows of your soul to the sun. If you do not, the sun will soon set, and you with it.

Your daily life is your temple and your religion.

Your corn is ripe today; mine will be so tomorrow. 'Tis profitable for us both, that I should labour with you today, and that you should aid me tomorrow... I know I should be disappointed, and that I should in vain depend upon your gratitude. Here then I leave you to labour alone; You treat me in the same manner. The seasons change; and both of us lose our harvests for want of mutual confidence and security.

Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself... their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

your body is the harp of your soul... [you] bring forth sweet music from it or confused sounds.

Your big mistake is to assume your brain generates a bubble of consciousness you call 'Me.'... The truth is that you're not your own private 'I.' You are to consciousness what the flame of a match is to the Milky Way.Your brain only taps into consciousness. You aren't a broadcaster. You're a transceiver.

young people—when they think they are beginning to understand nature—they can be sure that they are on the wrong track.

Young men want to be faithful, and are not; old men want to be faithless, and cannot.

Young love-making—that gossamer web! Even the points it clings to—the things whence its subtle interfacings are swung—are scarcely perceptible: momentary touches of finger tips, meetings of rays from blue and dark orbs, unfinished phrases, lightest changes of cheek and lip, faintest tremors. The web itself is made of spontaneous beliefs and indefinable joys, yearnings of one life towards another, visions of completeness, indefinite trust.

young and noble impulse struggling amidst the conditions of an imperfect social state, in which great feelings will often take the aspect of error, and great faith the aspect of illusion. For there is no creature whose inward being is so strong that it is not greatly determined by what lies outside it.

Youk'n hide de fier, but w'at you gwine do wid de smoke?