Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought.
Learn how to listen as things speak for themselves.
Real poetry, is to lead a beautiful life. To live poetry is better than to write it.
No matter where your interest lies, you will not be able to accomplish anything unless you bring your deepest devotion to it.
Make the universe your companion, always bearing in mind the true nature of things-mountains and rivers, trees and grasses, and humanity-and enjoy the falling blossoms and the scattering leaves.
Before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water. After enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water.
Learn the rules, and then forget them.
The desire to break the silence with constant human noise is, I believe, precisely an avoidance of the sacred terror of that divine encounter.
Sitting quietly, doing nothing, Spring comes, and the grass grows, by itself.
A flute with no holes is not a flute.
There is nothing you can see that is not a flower; there is nothing you can think that is not the moon.
Go to the pine if you want to learn about the pine, or to the bamboo if you want to learn about the bamboo. And in doing so, you must leave your subjective preoccupation with yourself. Otherwise you impose yourself on the object and you do not learn.
The moon and sun are travelers through eternity. Even the years wander on. Whether drifting through life on a boat or climbing toward old age leading a horse, each day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
Come, butterfly It's late- We've miles to go together.
What is important is to keep our mind high in the world of true understanding, and returning to the world of our daily experience to seek therein the truth of beauty. No matter what we may be doing at a given moment, we must not forget that is has a bearing upon our everlasting self which is poetry.
Old pond, frog jumps in - plop.
Every moment of life is the last, every poem is a death poem.
Nothing in the cry of cicadas suggests they are about to die
Come, see the true flowers of this pained world.
The oak tree: not interested in cherry blossoms.
Operating superficially, the mind is random in its activity and stale in its insights and images. However, with practice and experience the mind is freed from the skull, and the fresh and new can appear as though for the first time. It
In this poor body, composed of one hundred bones and nine openings, is something called spirit, a flimsy curtain swept this way and that by the slightest breeze. It is spirit, such as it is, which led me to poetry, at first little more than a pastime, then the full business of my life. There have been times when my spirit, so dejected, almost gave up the quest, other times when it was proud, triumphant. So it has been from the very start, never finding peace with itself, always doubting the worth of what it makes.
Traveler's heart. Never settled long in one place. Like a portable fire.
The journey itself is my home.
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: