When the Aggregates arise, decay and die, O bhikkhu, every moment you are born, decay, and die.
Few among men are they who cross to the further shore. The others merely run up and down the bank on this side.
Words do not express thoughts very well; every thing immediately becomes a little different, a little distorted, a little foolish. And yet it also pleases me and seems right that what is of value and wisdom of one man seems nonsense to another.