The Confession Of One Man Humbles All.

Human Suffering, While It Is Asleep, Is Shapeless. If It Is Wakened It Takes The Form Of The Waker.

Out Of A Hundred Years A Few Minutes Were Made That Stayed With Me, Not A Hundred Years.

More Grievous Than Tears Is The Sight Of Them.

The Less You Think You Are, The More You Bear. And If You Think You Are Nothing, You Bear Everything.

When I Look For My Existence I Do Not Look For It In Myself.