In your life, if you come to a great difficulty, like a big mountain in Nepal that looks like it has no passageway, you know there is a way to get through. p. 153

 

“How is it going in America?  Surely you have found someone by now,” Shunryu asked Gido.  “No,” said Gido…”I’ll do it,” Shunryu said.  “Yes you know English.  You would be perfect.  Too bad you can’t get away.”  “I’ll do it,” said Shunryu.  …Gido was truly amazed.  “You mean really do it?  You’re joking right?”  “No, I’m serious….I can leave in six months.”  p. 154

 

Do not say too late.  p. 158

 

May 21, 1959 - Shunryo Suzuki boarded a plane for San Francisco.

 

Holding in one hand a large, flat package wrapped in brown paper, a git from the old temple for the new one, and waving a bouquet of flowers held high in the other, Suzuki laughed and clowned as he approached the airplane parked on the tarmac.  A happy man, dancing and laughing, was off to America.  p. 162

 

When I came to America I was determined to turn over a new leaf.  p. 165

 

You may say that things happen just by chance, but I don’t feel that way.  p. 171

 

Della Goertz said of Suzuki, “There was something about his bearing, a look in his eye that made me feel that whatever he said was something I could trust.  He was a rare person.”  

p. 175

 

Zazen was physically difficult, and toward the end of …practice periods…most people’s legs were in pain.  But day after day, the stillness of Suzuki’s sitting filled the room with confidence and encouraged the others to persist.  p.  177

 

It is important to work for future generations, for our descendants.  We must be proud to do something, even though people do not usually know its value.  p. 177

 

Buddhism has many annual layers, like a big tree.  It is our tradition to respect those efforts that our ancestors have made for more than twenty-five hundred years.  When this temple was founded, there were not many priests in America, and the founder worked so hard…. This was an important effort, but its is nothing compared to the effort and devotion of our ancestors in India, China, and Japan in preserving and developing Buddhism.  We should continue these efforts generation after generation forever.  p. 178

 

People came and sat with Suzuki and each other in candlelight and silence, chanted a sutra, maybe stayed for tea afterward, and then went on about their lives.  Those who continued day after day, week after week, began to feel a change in themselves.  Suzuki did too.  He was no longer frustrated with how his life was going.  p. 181

 

When there is freedom from self, you have absolute freedom.  p. 187

 

We put more emphasis on a physical point, rather than on an intellectual one.  p.  191

 

Each person who stayed (at Zen Center) added something, figured out something about how to be there, what the possibilities were for working with Suzuki or working on themselves within Suzuki’s sphere.  p. 193

 

In later years, the hours of session were longer and the schedule more demanding, but for some this was the most powerful event of their lives.  In the prolonged stillness the students noticed their chattering minds grow calm, their sense of identity shift and expand.  p. 199

 

Bowing is very important practice for diminishing our arrogance and egotism.  It is not to demonstrate complete surrender to Buddha, but to help get rid of our own selfishness. p. 200

 

“Bowing is second only to zazen,” he said before the morning service one day  “It is Buddha bowing to Buddha.”  p. 201

 

Life is like a stepping onto a boat that is about to sail out to sea and sink. p. 202 (!!)

 

Every week when the boys’ band played this song (Japanese song Sakura), he thought of Mitsu.  Rain blew against the windowpanes, Suzuki sat in a hard wooden chair in the kitchen, looking into the darkness toward the balcony over the auditorium, tears running down his cheeks.  p. 204  

 

If you want to study, it is necessary to have a strong, constant, way-seeking mind.  p. 205

 

All he (Graham Petchy) had to do was face the wall and follow his breath —no faith, nothing to hold on to, just the nagging question to solve for himself under the guidance of this marvelous, dignified little man.  p.  209

 

Sitting in a metal folding chair in Sokoji’s kendo, Richard (Baker) was transfixed by Suzuki.  It was as if one of the great chinese masters from the books he’d read had come alive.  It wasn’t so much what Suzuki said as the unity ofhis speech and being.  Here was a man of deep thought in the classical sense, who knew that thought had its limits and strove for a goal beyond thought.  p. 210

 

So when we find the joy of our life in our composure, and when we don’t know what it is, when we don’t understand anything, then our mind is very great, very wide.  Then our mind is open to everything.  p. 219

 

Whether or not your zazen is painful or full of erroneous ideas, it is still Buddha’s activity.   p. 222

 

She (Jean Ross) was still coming to Sokoji only three days a week, but she had persevered through a number of weekend sesshins and passed the initiation of the week-long sesshin in August, 1961.  That the of tenacity can’t be faked.  p. 224

 

The practice of zazen is not for gaining a mystical something.  Zazen is for allowing a clear mind - as clear as a bright autumn sky.  p. 224

 

In August, 1962 Suzuki and his students had their third annual week-long sesshin. …The students endured pain in their legs and backs, boredom and restlessness.  Thirty people sat at least some of the sesshin, and over half as many stayed for the whole thing.  p. 225

 

Heavy rain may wash away the small seed when it has not taken root.  p. 227

 

When small mind finds its correct place in big mind, there is peace.  p. 230

 

An important aspect of the training of almost all Japanese Zen Buddhism is learning to sit calmly with physical pain.  “You must welcome the pain,” said Suzuki.  “Go with it.  It is your teacher.”  p. 232

 

From the Blue Cliff Record, Case 46:  Kyosei said, “Even though it is not difficult to be free from the objective world, it is difficult to express reality fully on each occasion.”  Suzuki wrote in hand, “It Is Difficult To Express Reality Fully On Each Occasion!!!”  Commenting on the difficulty for him to teach Buddhism - and in English…p. 239

 

When you say, “Wait a moment,” you are bound by your own karma.  When you said “Yes I will,” you are free.  p. 249

 

Establishing Buddhism in a new country is like holding a plant to a stone and waiting for it to take root.  p. 252

 

Suzuki’s experience at Yosemite:  At the highest waterfall I saw the water coming down like a curtain thrown from the top of the mountain.  It doesn’t come down swiftly, as I expected, it comes slowly.  And it comes down in groups.  I thought it might be a very hard experience for each drop of water to come down such a high mountain from top to bottom.  I thought our life is maybe like this.  We have many hard experiences in our life.  But at the same time, I thought, the water is not originally separaged. It is one whole water.  So we say, “From emptiness everything comes out.”  One whole body of water, or one whole mind, is emptiness.  When we reach this understanding, we find true meaning to our life.  When we reach this understanding, we can see the beauty of the flower—the beauty of human life.  Before we realize this fact, all we see is just delusion.  p.  254

 

Mel Weitzman encountering Suzuki for the first time in the zendo:   It’s been said, in Zen parlance, that your first enlightenment experience is when you decide to practice.  It’s the first turning.  “This is it,” Mel thought.  p. 260

 

Mel watched Suzuki closely and found that he taught as much with his body as with his words.  Suzuki’s body reminded Mel of Gandhi’s agile and light.  He taught by example how to stand, walk, breathe, and sit in a chair.  Suzuki’s rhythm  and movement deeply impressed Mel the musician.  “He had the feeling of being completely within the activity of the moment….He harmonized and merged with whatever he met….He always took the time to do everything.  That’s being in time.  The way he sat down was being in time.”  p. 260

 

Silas Hoadley:  It was the physicality that attracted him.  In his studies of psychology and philosophy he’d never run into anyone who said that it all starts with the body — being aware of the body and the breath.  Silas was already a disciplined and serious person, and he had no particular difficulty making the shift to sitting zazen once or twice a day at Sokoji.  p. 261

 

 

Crooked Cucumber Quotes, p. 263-344

 

In the evanescence of life we can find the joy of eternal life.  p. 263

 

When Sawaki (Head of Antaiji in Japan) died in December 1965 at the age of eighty-five, Grahame (Petchey) joined the forty-nine day memorial session in his honor.  Sesshins usually last a maximum of seven days, but Grahame sat at Antaiji for forty-nine days from before sunrise till after sunset, in honor of this great sitter….His mind gradually became calm and clear.  Sitting day after day, Grahame forgot about cultural differences, language barriers, doubts, and above all, his nagging question.  He gave himself completely to zazen….He was filled with gratitude for his years with Suzuki and for having found Antaiji.  p. 264

 

Tassajara

 

Tassajara is exceedingly isolated and incomparably beautiful, a narrow creek-lined valley cut through a rough, wooded wilderness, with a waterfall visible from a ridge.  p.  265

 

True religion cannot be obtained by seeking for some good; that is the way to attain something in a material sense.  The way to work on spiritual things is quite different.  Even to talk about spiritual things is not actually spiritual but a kind of substitute.  p. 268

 

The goal of Buddhism is to bring about right human life, to to have the teaching, or teacher, or sentient beings, or Buddhism, or Buddha.  But if you think that without any training you can have that kind of life, that is a big mistake.  p. 281

 

The most important point is to follow the schedule….p. 284

 

**Now they were all in harmony - Suzuki, Richard, Philip, Bill, Silas, a number of older students, and many new ones:  following their breaths, counting their breaths, just sitting, looking, with no props and no beliefs, some sleepy, some with chattering minds, some with legs already aching.  No hurry.  Sit zazen and compulsive thinking and dominating emotions will be eroded as a mountain is-smoothed over in time by wind and rain.  p.  285

 

….Up to seven hours of the day would have been spent in the zendo….This was the Tassajara schedule, the heart of Tassajara life.  It was formidable, and no one could do it without earnest intent.  p. 286

 

“Just follow the schedule,” they were told….It was waiting patiently like a hunter, not moving for hours.  It was sitting with pain or with subtle feelings of deep pleasure.  Bubbling up from people’s minds came anxiety, confusion, fear, joy, giggling.  In time, moments of clarity and satisfaction started to appear in the hearts and minds of Suzuki’s diverse students as they followed the schedule together, taking the first step in establishing Dogen’s way in the California wilderness.  p. 287

 

Just to be there in the corner of the garden is enough.  p. 287

 

 

 

 

Our rules are based on a warm, kind mind.  It is not so important to follow the rules literally. 

p. 289

 

In April of 1967 before the official opening, a crew was preparing Tassajara for the first practice period, and Suzuki came down from San Francisco for a week to join his young, hard-working students.  He followed the schedule, sitting zazen early, doing physical labor during the days — stonework, sweeping, and cleaning.  In the evenings he’d lecture, and there would be questions.  A lot of the discussion had to do with the demands of the new round-the-clock communal situation.  p. 290

 

What I want to talk about now is how to orient your mind in practice.  For the beginner it is inevitable that there will be hard discipline, the observation of some rules.  Rigid rules are not our point.  But if you want to acquire vital freedom, it is necessary to have some strength, some discipline in order to be free from one-sided dualistic ideas (discriminations).  So our training begins in the realm of duality or rules: what we should or should not do.  p. 292

 

When we practice our way, we should forget everything and try to find oneself in our everyday life.  That is why we must be strict, we must have strict rules.  Our human nature is very sneaky.  Without some strict way we will go this way and that way.  p. 293

 

The countercultural credo of the time was “do your own thing” …. Now they were getting up in the dark, practicing zazen in full or half lotus, chanting together in an ancient, unfamiliar language, wearing robes, eating in silence, working hard, and making every attempt to follow a life far more structured than the ones they’d rejected.  p. 293

 

Our practice will not take you away to somewhere better.  Just stay here and follow the schedule with others, not trying to be too good or to understand Buddhism too well.  p. 300

 

Suzuki had great respect for the difficulty of changing one’s course, for the tenacity of habit, the addictiveness of thoughts and beliefs, the power of delusion.  He  was always teaching the importance of developing good habits so as not to become lost and confused, the importance of not wanting too much — this was called following the precepts.  “Make your best effort,” he said.  But still he cautioned not to try too hard, saying that we would naturally follow the precepts if we just relaxed within our practice.  p. 301

 

You know, I don’t want to teach anything so much.  I’d rather not even give lectures.  I’d just like to sit zazen with everyone, take a bath, eat simple food, and work.  That should be enough.  

p. 301

 

After anger at weakness and complaining, Suzuki said, “I understand you.  You think that pain is bad, that suffering is bad.  You think that our way is to go beyond suffering, but there is no end to suffering.  When I was young I felt very bad for all the suffering that people have.  But now I don’t feel so bad.  Now I see suffering as inescapable.  Now I see that suffering is beautiful.  You must suffer more.”  p. 303

 

About the problems of the Japanese temple system Suzuki said that only a return to the ancient Chinese basics would save Zen.  p. 304

 

If you want to be a circle, you must first be a square.  p. 306

 

Your life in the hippie-age is very different.  I think it is very Buddhist-like.  Maybe that is why you like Buddhism.  But if you become a Buddhist, your life will change more—you will become a super-hippie, not a usual one.  Your lifestyle looks Buddhist, but that is not enough.  When you have a strict practice that doesn’t ignore the weak points of your practice, then eventually you will have good practice.  More and more you will understand what Zen masters have said, and you will appreciate their lives.  p. 307

 

The world of thinking is that of our ordinary dualistic mind.  The world of pure consciousness or awareness is that of buddha-mind.  Phenomena in the world of thinking are constantly being named or labeled by our minds. The world of awareness does not label or name; it only reflects.  The world of pure consciousness thus includes the opposites in the world of thinking.  p. 311

 

Arthur Deikman asked Suzuki how to maintain the state of mind he’d attained on retreat.  “Concentrate on your breathing, and it will go away,”  Suzuki said.  p. 313

 

If you are dissatisfied with your zazen, it shows you have a gaining idea.  p. 313

 

Asked about consciousness, Suzuki said,  “I don’t know anything about consciousness.  I just try to teach my students how to hear the birds sing.”  p. 314

 

There will aways be war, but we must always work to oppose it.  p. 314

 

Regarding his years in Japan during WWII, Suzuki said, “I didn’t oppose the government.  I just expressed ideas — like if there were peace, that the country and also the government would be stronger.  And I encouraged others to think about careless assumptions.”  p. 314

 

Regarding discussions with FBI agents concerning conscientious objectors doing service at Tassajara, Suzuki explained that Buddhism sought accommodation rather than conflict, was fundamentally pacificist, and that it was better for monks not to become soldiers.  p. 316

 

Suzuki was interested in establishing a way of life that created peace, working on the root cause of war rather than on railing against the symptoms.  p. 317

 

The teachings given by Shakyamuni Buddha during his lifetime was accommodated to each disciple’s particular temperament and to each person’s particular circumstance.  p. 320

 

In a talk that Trudy Dixon, a philosophy student,  attended, Suzuki compared the practice of Zen with the study of philosophy, expressing one’s truth with one’s whole body and mind instead of thinking and being curious about the meaning of life.  p. 323

 

Later while fighting cancer, Trudy Dixon described a meditation experience, “My self, my body is dissolved in phenomena like a sky’s rainbow caught in a child’s soap bubble.”  p. 324

 

When Trudy Dixon died, Suzuki, referring to her long effort and dedication, cried and said, “I never thought I’d have a disciple this great.  Maybe I never will again.”  In her eulogy he said, “You have completed your practice for this life and acquired a genuine warm heart, a pure and undefiled buddha mind, and joined our sangha.  … Because of your complete practice our mind has transcended far beyond your physical sickness, and it has taken full care of your sickness like a nurse.  A person of joyful mind is contented with his lot.  Even in adversity he will see bright light.” p. 324-325

 

One purpose of our practice is to enjoy our old age.  But we can’t fool ourselves.  Only sincere practice will work.  p. 335

 

Suzuki’s way was not to latch on to the highs (of meditation) but to accept every moment of life as it comes, step after step.  p. 339

 

If you are enlightened, the whole universe tells the truth to the whole universe.  p. 339

 

If our practice doesn’t include every one of us, it is not true practice.  p. 340

 

In the year when the Pope declared priestly celibacy to be a fundamental teaching of the Roman Catholic Church, Suzuki acknowledged the success of women and men practicing together at Tassajara.  p. 340

 

….Here is my friend; there is the mountain; there is the moon.  That is a dualistic way of observing things, not actually the Buddhist way.  We find the mountain, or San Francisco, or the moon, within ourselves right here.  That is our understanding, the so-called big mind.  p. 342

 

When you become a stone, that is our zazen practice.  p.  344

 

 

 

Crooked Cucumber Quotes p. 345-409

 

 

That summer (1970) was a high point in Suzuki’s life — hard-working, early-rising season of energy and harmony.  Tassajara was good, the city was good.  Suzuki seemed healthy and strong, and his dream was tangibly unfolding before him.  p. 345

 

The secret of Soto Zen is just two words: not always so.  (Two words in Japanese.) p. 345

 

There is nothing absolute for us, but when nothing is absolute, that is absolute.  p. 345

 

He talked about enlightenment, but said, “Enlightenment is not any particular stage that you attain.”  p. 345

 

Of the teaching, “not always so”, Suzuki said it couldn’t be grasped.  It was a paradox, he said, that could only be understood through sincere practice and zazen.  The point of his talks wasn’t to tell the truth as he saw it, but to free minds from obstacles so they might include contradictions.  p. 345

 

The point of Dogen’s (Dogen Zenji thirteenth century Soto Zen Master) zazen is to live each moment in total combustion, like a kerosene lamp or a candle.  p. 346

 

We should understand everything both ways, not just from one standpoint.  p. 346

 

Buddha’s great light shines forth from everything, each moment.  p. 348

 

We get no letters from the world of emptiness, but when you see the plant flower, when you hear the sound of bamboo hit by the small stone, that is a letter from the world of emptiness.  p. 351

 

The prologue to Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind, carried this quote from Suzuki:  “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert’s there are few.”   p. 351

 

Buddhism is transmitted from warm hand to warm hand.  p. 352

 

About Richard Baker receiving Zen Buddhist transmission, Suzuki said, “Don’t make too much of it.  It means he has a good understanding.  A good understanding and a complete commitment.”  p. 358

 

Zen practice is to get to our True Mind, the mind not accessible to thinking.  This mind cannot be consciously known by ordinary efforts.  An unusual effort is necessary.  This effort is zazen.  

p. 358

 

How can you practice zazen?  Only when you accept yourself and when you really know you exist here.  You cannot escape from yourself.  This is the ultimate fact, that “I am here.”  p. 362

 

This is the true meaning of settling oneself on oneself.  Even though you are in this modern society, you should not lose your fresh experience moment after moment.  We should not be caught.  We should know the fresh vitality within ourselves.  p. 363

 

To understand birth and death is the main point of our practice.  p. 363

 

But the goal is to practice with mountains, trees, and stones — with everything in the world, in the universe — and to find ourselves in the big cosmos, this big world.  p. 363

 

Naturally you are wondering how to find the truth, and you want to have some clear map of which way to go.  That is why you must have a teacher who gives you a map or some instruction on which way to go.  p. 364

 

In March, 1971 Suzuki had become ill and underwent surgery on his gallbladder.  p. 364-365

 

To understand Buddhism, direct experience, direct practice is necessary.  If you want to do it, you have to be very straightforward and open, ready for anything that might happen to you.  

p. 364

 

The way you study true Zen is not some verbal thing.  You should open yourself and give up everything.  p. 367

 

How not to be lost in our problem is our practice.  p. 367

 

After Suzuki’s surgery, the doctor told the Suzukis that Shunryu’s gallbladder was cancerous, which was surprising because gallbladder cancer is very rare.  For awhile, the cancer was kept a secret.  p. 367

 

Our way is to see what we are doing, moment after moment.  p. 371

 

Because emptiness has no limit and no beginning, we can believe in it.  Isn’t this so?  This is very important.  I am not fooling you!  Okay? If you really understand this tears will flow.  p. 375

 

To accept some idea of truth without experiencing it is like a painting of a cake on paper which you cannot eat.  p. 376

 

Speaking of his illness, Suzuki said, “When I am dying…everything is with us, and we are happy to be with everything without being hard or harsh or disturbed.  Usually it is difficult to feel that way, because we are always involved in gaining ideas, expecting something in the future.  The most important thing is to confront yourself and to be yourself.  Then naturally you can see and accept things as they are.  You will have perfect wisdom at that time.” p. 377

 

Later Suzuki said, “But things, you know, teach best when they’re dying.: p. 377

 

A garden is never finished.  p. 377

 

Suzuki was a regular dynamo that summer.  He was following the whole schedule — zazen, service, silent breakfast with oryoki bowls, seeing students for dokusan, giving lectures almost every night.  He worked in his garden in the mornings and afternoons with one or two students at a time.  p. 378

 

It had been over five years since Shunryu Suzuki had first traveled the winding, dusty road to Tassajara…in April of 1966.  In that time he had come to know intimately the stones in the creek and the plants and trees on the hillsides.  He had delighted in the natural setting:  stopping on Hogback Train to gaze across the valley at the waterfall and breathe the clean wilderness air, soaking in the large mineral-water plunge.  Suzuki savored the sights, sounds, and smells of his hidden paradise, but he was only there because of the people who had joined him and helped him to establish his way.  p. 384

 

Tassajara represented everything he loved:  a place to listen to the birds, to move rocks, to sit zazen with his Buddhist friends, and to extend that zazen everywhere endlessly.  Tassajara was Suzuki’s reward and at the same time his gift.  p. 384

 

When Suzuki left Tassajara for the last time, the Volvo slowly crossed the wooden bridge over the small creek, passed the narrow stretch below the upper garden and above the stone kitchen and kendo, curved up the dirt road past the shop and the screened junkyard, drove under the room of the gatehouse and up the bumpy road in a cloud of dust, Tassajara disappearing behind.  p. 385

 

Drive the wave; ride the wave.  p. 386

 

Our practice should go to that level, where there is no human problem, no buddha problem, where there is nothing.  To have tea, to have cake, to make a trip from one place to another is his (Nakagawa, a Zen teacher) practice.  He has no idea of helping people.  What he is doing is helping, but he himself has no idea of helping people.  p. 387

 

Shunryu Suzuki concluded his last public lecture by saying, “To solve our human problem doesn’t cover all of Buddhist practice, and we don’t know how long it takes for us to make the buddha trip.  We have many trips:  work trips, space trips, the various trips we must have.  The buddha trip is a very long trip.  This is Buddhism.  Thank you very much.”  p. 387

 

If you are not born in this world, there would be no need to die.  To be born in this world is to die, to disappear.  p. 390

 

In October, 1971, he called his senior students and successors and said, “I myself selfishly feel good, but on the other hand, I am very sorry for you.  But I think Buddha will take care of everything, so I won’t worry too much.  How long I’ll live I don’t know.  No one knows actually.,,,I think I can live one more year for sure, I feel that way.  I don’t feel so discouraged or weak.  So maybe I want you to allow me to be a lazy monk, that’s all.  I shall be a very bad example, but instead, you should be a good example.  Okay?  That’s all that I want you to do — to prepare.  Most things you can decide among yourselves.  If necessary, I can join your discussions.  Physically, I get tired quite easily.  Thank you very much.  p. 391

 

This cancer is my friend, and my practice will be to take care of this sickness.  p. 392

 

Suzuki said to Dr. Stunkard, a friend who was a physician, “So many of these young people are afraid of dying.  I can show them that you don’t need to be afraid of dying.  It’s a wonderful teaching opportunity.  “I wish you were doing some other kind of teaching”, Stankard said.  

p. 393

 

Yes, I don’t want to die.  I don’t know what it’s going to be like when I die.  Nobody knows what that’s going to be like.  But when I die, I’ll still be a buddha.  I may be a buddha in agony, or I may be a buddha in bliss, but I’ll die knowing that this is how it is.  p. 393

 

Zen is the practice of all existence with everything else — stars, moon, sun, mountains, rivers, animate and inanimate beings.  Sometimes the pain in our legs practices zazen.  Sometimes our sleepy mind practices zazen on a black cushion, on a chair, or even in bed.  p. 396

 

Nirvana is seeing one thing through to the end.  p. 397

 

I will become American soil.  p. 400

 

“The bond between children and parents in never lost,”  he told his daughter who was visiting from Japan.  p. 400

 

The most important point is to continue our way.  p. 401

 

During the Mountain Seat Ceremony in which Richard Baker was to be installed as chief priest, Baker said, “Although I don’t know how I came, through your heart teaching, I am always here.”

p. 402

 

Drawing from Suzuki’s own Mountain Seat Ceremony at Sokoji in Japan in 1965, Baker said:

 

This piece of incense

Which I have had for a long long time

I offer with no-hand

To my Master, to my friend, Suzuki Shunryu-daiosho,

The founder of these temples,

There is no measure of what you have done.

Walking with you in Buddha’s gentle rain

Our robes are soaked through,

But on the lotus leaves

Not a drop remains.  p. 403

 

So far Suzuki’s instructions were not about practical matters, but about dying with dignity.  It was tragic for his students to see the deteriorating physical condition of their dear teacher, yet at the same time it was marvelous to witness his composure, and see how undiminished he was at heart.  p. 405

 

The ancient bodhisattvas were not afraid of, but found joy in failure, poverty, and death — and in doing small things.  p. 407

 

Richard Baker came every day to visit.  One day when Suzuki could hardly hear, he asked, “Where will I meet you?”  Suzuki drew a circle in the air, and bowed into it.  Richard bowed in return.  p. 408

 

That we are here means we will vanish.  p. 409