In This Very Breath That We Take

I Meditate For The Last Time On This Mountain That Is Bare, Though Others All Around Are White With Snow. Like The Bare Peak Of The Koan, This One Is Not Different From Myself. I Know This Mountain Because I Am This Mountain, I Can Feel It Breathing At This Moment, As Its Grass Tops Stray Against The Snows. If The Snow Leopard Should Leap From The Rock Above And Manifest Itself Before Me - S-a-a-o! - Then In That Moment Of Pure Fright, Out Of My Wits, I Might Truly Perceive It, And Be Free.

The Zen Expression “kill The Buddha!” Means To Kill Any Concept Of The Buddha As Something Apart From Oneself.

Simultaneously I Am Myself, The Child I Was, The Old Man I Will Be.

I Used To Distinguish Between My Fiction And Nonfiction In Terms Of Superiority Or Inferiority.

I Think In Any Writing You're Paying Attention To Detail.