A kind man who makes good use of wealth is rightly said to possess a great treasure; but the miser who hoards up his riches will have no profit.
Gautama BuddhaRead
Death carries off a man busy picking flowers with an besotted mind, like a great flood does a sleeping village.
Interpretation
Life is transient, and while we may be absorbed in our pursuits, we must remember that death is inevitable.
This quote by Gautama Buddha highlights the fragility of life and the unexpected nature of death. It serves as a reminder that being preoccupied with earthly concerns, like picking flowers, can lead us to overlook the reality that death can come at any moment, much like a great flood surging into a tranquil village, disrupting the peace and normalcy of life.
In practice
During a memorial service, to encourage reflection on life's fleeting nature.
A kind man who makes good use of wealth is rightly said to possess a great treasure; but the miser who hoards up his riches will have no profit.
There are having flowers in Spring, breezes in Summer, moon in Autumn, snows in Winter. If there is nothing worrying over you, it will be the best seasons at all times.
Make an island of yourself, make yourself your refuge; there is no other refuge. Make truth your island, make truth your refuge; there is no other refuge.
When a wise man is advised of his errors, he will reflect on and improve his conduct. When his misconduct is pointed out, a foolish man will not only disregard the advice but rather repeat the same error.
The tongue like a sharp knife ... Kills without drawing blood.
Care about your children. Just bless them instead of worrying, as every child is the little Buddha who helps his parents to grow up.
But nobody ever forgot anything, not really, though sometimes they pretended, when it suited them. Memories were permanent. Sorrowful ones remained sad even with the passing of time, yet happy ones could never be recreated - not with the same joy. Remembering bred its own peculiar sorrow. It seemed so unfair: that time should render both sadness and happiness into a source of pain.
I like the stars. It's the illusion of permanence, I think. I mean, they're always flaring up and caving in and going out. But from here, I can pretend...I can pretend that things last. I can pretend that lives last longer than moments. Gods come, and gods go. Mortals flicker and flash and fade. Worlds don't last; and stars and galaxies are transient, fleeting things that twinkle like fireflies and vanish into cold and dust. But I can pretend.
She knew that the horse, born to serve nobly, had waited in vain for someone noble to serve. His spirit knew that nobility had gone out of men.
The future is like heaven-everyone exalts it but no one wants to go there now.
I always think that Iβm still this 13-year old boy that doesnβt really know how to be an adult, pretending to live my life, taking notes for when Iβll really have to do it.
From my perspective, I absolutely believe in a greater spiritual power, far greater than I am, from which I have derived strength in moments of sadness or fear. That's what I believe, and it was very, very strong in the forest.
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