Glory, As Anyone Knows, Is Bitter Stuff.

His Conviction Of Having No Purpose In Life Other Than To Act As A Distillation Of Poison Was Part Of The Ego Of An Eighteen-year-old. He Had Resolved That His Beautiful White Hands Would Never Be Soiled Or Calloused. He Wanted To Be Like A Pennant, Dependent On Each Gusting Wind. The Only Thing That Seemed Valid To Him Was To Live For The Emotions--gratuitous And Unstable, Dying Only To Quicken Again, Dwindling And Flaring Without Direction Or Purpose.

Amid The Moon And The Stars, Amid The Clouds Of The Night, Amid The Hills Which Bordered On The Sky With Their Magnificent Silhouette Of Pointed Cedars, Amid The Speckled Patches Of The Moon, Amid The Temple Buildings That Emerged Sparkling White Out Of The Surrounding Darkness - Amid All This, I Was Intoxicated By The Pellucid Beauty Of Uiko's Treachery.

According To Eshin's Essentials Of Salvation, The Ten Pleasures Are But A Drop In The Ocean When Compared To The Joys Of The Pure Land.

Beauty Is Something That Burns The Hand When You Touch It.

Human Beings - They Go On Being Born And Dying, Dying And Being Born. It's Kind Of Boring, Isn't It?