Great king, no one who is born is free from aging and death. Even those affluent khattiyas—rich, with great wealth and property, with abundant gold and silver, abundant treasures and commodities, abundant wealth and grain—because they have been born, are not free from aging and death. Even those affluent brahmins ... affluent householders—rich ... with abundant wealth and grain—because they have been born, are not free from aging and death. Even those monks who are arahants, whose taints are destroyed, who have lived the holy life, done what had to be done, laid down the burden, reached their own goal, utterly destroyed the fetters of existence, and are completely liberated through final knowledge: even for them this body is subject to breaking up, subject to being laid down. (BW, 26)

“When an uninstructed worldling, monks, comes upon gain, he does not reflect on it thus: ‘This gain that has come to me is impermanent, bound up with suffering, subject to change.’ He does not know it as it really is. And when he comes upon loss, fame and disrepute, praise and blame, he does not reflect on them thus: ‘All these are impermanent, bound up with suffering, subject to change.’ He does not know them as they really are. With such a person, gain and loss, fame and disrepute, praise and blame, pleasure and pain keep his mind engrossed. When gain comes he is elated and when he meets with loss he is dejected. When fame comes he is elated and when he meets with disrepute he is dejected. When praise comes he is elated and when he meets with blame he is dejected. When he experiences pleasure he is elated and when he experiences pain he is dejected. Being thus involved in likes and dislikes, he will not be freed from birth, aging, and death, from sorrow, lamentation, pain, dejection, and despair; he will not be freed from suffering, I say. But, monks, when an instructed noble disciple comes upon gain, he reflects on it thus: ‘This gain that has come to me is impermanent, wound up with suffering, subject to change.’ And so he will reflect when loss and so forth come upon him. He understands all these things ,as they really are, and they do not engross his mind. Thus he will not elated by gain and dejected by loss; elated by fame and dejected by disrepute; elated by praise and dejected by blame; elated by pleasure dejected by pain. Having thus given up likes and dislikes, he will treed from birth, aging, and death, from sorrow, lamentation, pain, on, and despair; he will be freed from suffering, I say. (BW, 33)

Thus, Ananda, in dependence upon feeling there is craving; in dependence upon craving there is pursuit; in dependence upon pursuit there is gain; in dependence upon gain there is decision-making; in dependence upon decision-making there is desire and lust; in dependence upon desire and lust there is attachment; in dependence upon attachment there is possessiveness; in dependence upon possessiveness there is niggardliness; in dependence upon niggardliness there is defensiveness; and because of defensiveness, various evil unwholesome things originate—the taking up of clubs and weapons, conflicts, quarrels, and disputes, insults, slander, and falsehood.” (BW, 36)

Suppose, monks, a dog tied up on a leash was bound to a strong post or pillar: it would just keep on running and revolving around that same post or pillar. So too, the uninstructed worldling regards form as self … feeling as self … perception as self … volitional formations as self … consciousness as self…. He just keeps running and revolving around form, around feeling, around perception, around volitional formations, around consciousness. As he keeps on running and revolving around them, he is not freed from form, not freed from feeling, not freed from perception, not freed from volitional formations, not freed from consciousness. He is not freed from birth, aging, and death; not freed from sorrow, lamentation, pain, dejection, and despair; not freed from suffering I say. (BW, 39-40)

Monks, there are these two kinds of search: the noble search and the ignoble search. And what is the ignoble search? Here someone being himself subject to birth seeks what is also subject to birth; being' himself subject to aging, he seeks what is also subject to aging; being himself subject to sickness, he seeks what is also subject to sickness; being himself subject to death, he seeks what is also subject to death; being himself subject to sorrow, he seeks what is also subject to sorrow; being himself subject to defilement, he seeks what is also subject to defilement.

And what may be said to be subject to birth, aging, sickness, and death; to sorrow and defilement? Wife and children, men and women slaves, goats and sheep, fowl and pigs, elephants, cattle, horses, and mares, gold and silver: these acquisitions are subject to birth, aging, sickness, and death; to sorrow and defilement; and one who is tied to these things, infatuated with them, and utterly absorbed in them, being himself subject to birth ... to sorrow and defilement, seeks what it also subject to birth ... to sorrow and defilement.

And what is the noble search? Here someone being himself subject to birth, having understood the danger in what is subject to birth, seeks the unborn supreme security from bondage, Nibbana; being himself subject to aging, having understood the danger in what is subject to aging, he seeks the unaging supreme security from bondage, Nibbana; being himself subject to sickness, having understood the danger in what is subject to sickness, he seeks the unailing supreme security from bondage, Nibbana; being himself subject to death, having understood the danger in what is subject to death, he seeks the deathless supreme security from bondage, Nibbana; being himself subject to sorrow, having understood the danger in what is subject to sorrow, he seeks the sorrowless supreme security from bondage, Nibbana; being himself subject to defilement, having understood the danger in what is subject to defilement, he seeks the undefiled supreme security from bondage, Nibbana. This is the noble search. (BW, 54-55)

Later, while still young, a black-haired  young man endowed with the blessing of youth, in the prime of life, though my mother and father wished otherwise and wept with tearful faces, I shaved off my hair and beard, put on the ochre robe, and went forth from the home life into homelessness. (BW, 56)

Just as in a pond of blue or red or white lotuses, some lotuses that are born and grow in the water thrive immersed in the water without rising out of it, and some other lotuses that are born and grow in the water rest on the water’s surface, and some other lotuses that are born and grow in the water rise out of the water and stand clear, unwetted by it; so too, surveying the world with the eye of a Buddha, I saw beings with little dust in their eyes and with much dust in their eyes, with keen faculties and with dull faculties, with good qualities and with bad qualities, easy to teach and hard to teach, and some who dwelled seeing fear and blame in the other world. (BW, 71)

Monks, those families dwell with Brahma where at home the parents are respected by their children. Those families dwell with the ancient teachers where at home the parents are respected by their children. Those families dwell with the ancient deities where at home the parents are respected by their children. Those families dwell with the holy ones where at home the parents are respected by their children.

‘Brahma,’ monks, is a term for father and mother. ‘The ancient teachers’ is a term for father and mother. ‘The ancient deities’ is a term for father and mother. ‘The holy ones’ is a term for father and mother. And why? Parents are of great help to their children; they bring them up, feed them, and show them the world.

Monks, I declare that there are two persons one can never repay. What two? One’s mother and father.

Even if one should carry about one’s mother on one shoulder and one’s father on the other, and while doing so should live a hundred years, reach the age of a hundred years; and if one should attend to them by anointing them with balms, by massaging, bathing, and rubbing their limbs, and they should even void their excrements there—even by that would one not do enough for one’s parents, nor would one repay them. Even if one were to establish one’s parents as the supreme lords and rulers over this earth so rich in the seven treasures, one would not do enough for them, nor would one repay them. For what reason? Parents are of great help to their children; they bring them up, feed them, and show them the world. (BW, 118-119)

Monks, Brahmins and householders are very helpful to you. They provide you with the requisites of robes, almsfood, lodgings, and medicines in time of sickness. And you, monks, are very helpful to Brahmins and householders, as you teach them the Dhamma that is good in the beginning, the middle, and the end, with the correct meaning and wording, and you proclaim the spiritual life in its fulfillment and complete purity. Thus, monks, this spiritual life is lived with mutual support for the purpose of crossing the flood and making a complete end of suffering. (BW, 171)

Suppose, monks, someone were to exercise sovereignty and dominion over these sixteen great countries abounding  in the seven precious treasures, that is, Anga, Magadha, Kasi, Kosala, the Vajjis, the Mallas, the Cetis, Vamsa, the Kurus, the Pancalas, Maccha, Surasena, Assaka, Avanti, Gandhara, and Kamboja: this would not be worth a sixteenth part of the uposatha observance complete in those eight factors. For what reason? Because human kingship is poor compared to divine happiness. (BW, 175)

Before my enlightenment, O monks, while I was still a bodhisatta, it occurred to me: “What is the gratification in the world, what is the danger in the world, what is the escape from the world?” Then it occurred to me: “Whatever pleasure and joy there is in the world, this is the gratification in the world; that the world is impermanent, bound up with suffering, and subject to change, this is the danger in the world; the removal and abandoning of desire and lust for the world, this is the escape from the world.” (BW, 192)

“And what, monks, is the gratification in the case of sensual pleasures? Monks, there are these five cords of sensual pleasure. What are the five? Forms cognizable by the eye that are wished for, desired, agreeable and likeable, connected with sensual desire, and provocative of lust. Sounds cognizable by the ear.... Odors cognizable by the nose.... Flavors cognizable by the tongue.... Tactile objects cognizable by the body that are wished for, desired, agreeable and likeable, connected with sensual desire, and provocative of lust. These are the five cords of sensual pleasure. Now the pleasure and joy that arise dependent on these five cords of sensual pleasure are the gratification in the case of sensual pleasures.

“And what, monks, is the danger in the case of sensual pleasures? Here, monks, on account of the craft by which a clansman makes a living—whether checking, accounting, calculating, farming, trading, husbandry, archery, the royal service, or whatever craft it may be—he has to face cold and heat; he is injured by contact with gadflies, mosquitoes, wind, sun, and creeping things; he risks death by hunger and thirst. Now this is a danger in the case of sensual pleasures, a mass of suffering visible in this present life, having sensual pleasures as its cause, source, and basis, the cause being simply sensual pleasures.

“If no property comes to the clansman while he works and strives and makes an effort thus, he sorrows, grieves, and laments, he weeps beating his breast and becomes distraught, crying: 'My work is in vain, my effort is fruitless!' Now this too is a danger in the case of sensual pleasures, a mass of suffering visible in this present life, having sensual pleasures as its cause, source, and basis, the cause being simply sensual pleasures.

“If property comes to the clansman while he works and strives and makes an effort thus, he experiences pain and grief in protecting it: 'How shall neither kings nor thieves make off with my property, nor fire burn it, nor water sweep it away, nor unloved heirs make off with it?' And as he guards and protects his property, kings or thieves make off with it, or fire burns it, or water sweeps it away, or unloved heirs make off with it. And he sorrows, grieves, and laments, he weeps beating his breast and becomes distraught, crying: 'I no longer have my property!' Now this too is a danger in the case of sensual pleasures, a mass of suffering visible in this present life, having sensual pleasures as its cause, source, and basis, the cause being simply sensual pleasures.

“Again, with sensual pleasures as the cause ... kings quarrel with kings, khattiyas with khattiyas, brahmins with brahmins, householders with householders; mother quarrels with son, son with mother, father with son, son with father; brother quarrels with brother, brother with sister, sister with brother, friend with friend. And here in their quarrels, brawls, and disputes they attack each other with fists, clods, sticks, or knives, whereby they incur death or deadly suffering. Now this too is a danger in the case of sensual pleasures, a mass of suffering visible in this present life, having sensual pleasures as its cause, source, and basis, the cause being simply sensual pleasures.

“Again, with sensual pleasures as the cause ... men take swords and shields and buckle on bows and quivers, and they charge into battle massed in double array with arrows and spears flying and swords flashing; and there they are wounded by arrows and spears, and their heads are cut off by swords, whereby they incur death or deadly suffering. Now this too is a danger in the case of sensual pleasures, a mass of suffering visible in this present life, having sensual pleasures as its cause, source, and basis, the cause being simply sensual pleasures.

“Again, with sensual pleasures as the cause ... men take swords and shields and buckle on bows and quivers, and they charge slippery bastions, with arrows and spears flying and swords flashing; and there they are wounded by arrows and spears and splashed with boiling liquids and crushed under heavy weights, and their heads are cut off by swords, whereby they incur death or deadly suffering. Now this too is a danger in the case of sensual pleasures, a mass of suffering visible in this present life, having sensual pleasures as its cause, source, and basis, the cause being simply sensual pleasures.

“Again, with sensual pleasures as the cause ... men break into houses, plunder wealth, commit burglary, ambush highways, seduce others' wives, and when they are caught, kings have many kinds of torture inflicted on them ... whereby they incur death or deadly suffering. Now this too is a danger in the case of sensual pleasures, a mass of suffering visible in this present life, having sensual pleasures as its cause, source, and basis, causing, simply sensual pleasures.

“Again, with sensual pleasures as the cause ... people indulge in misconduct of body, speech, and mind. Having done so, on the breakup of the body, after death, they are reborn in a state of misery, in a bad destination, in the lower world, in hell. Now this is a danger in the case of sensual pleasures, a mass of suffering in the life to come,' having sensual pleasures as its cause, source, and basis, the cause being simply sensual pleasures.

“And what, monks, is the escape in the case of sensual pleasures? It is the removal of desire and lust, the abandonment of desire and lust for sensual pleasures. This is the escape in the case of sensual pleasures.

“That those ascetics and brahmins who do not understand as it really is the gratification as gratification, the danger as danger, and the escape as escape in the case of sensual pleasures, can either themselves fully understand sensual pleasures or instruct others so that they can fully understand sensual pleasures—that is impossible. That those ascetics and brahmins who understand as it really is the gratification as gratification, the danger as danger, and the escape as escape in the case of sensual pleasures, can themselves fully understand sensual pleasures and instruct others so that they can fully understand sensual pleasures—that is possible.

“And what, monks, is the gratification in the case of form? Suppose there were a girl of the khattiya class or the brahmin class or of householder stock, in her fifteenth or sixteenth year, neither too tall nor too short, neither too thin nor too fat, neither too dark nor too fair. Is her beauty and loveliness then at its height?"—"Yes, venerable sir.” "Now the pleasure and joy that arise in dependence on that beauty and loveliness are the gratification in the case of form.

"And what, monks, is the danger in the case of form? Later on one might see that same woman here at eighty, ninety, or a hundred years, aged, as crooked as a roof bracket, doubled up, supported by a walking stick, tottering, frail, her youth gone, her teeth broken, grayhaired, scanty-haired, bald, wrinkled, with limbs all blotchy. What do you think, monks? Has her former beauty and loveliness vanished and the danger become evident?"—"Yes, venerable sir."—"Monks, this is a danger in the case of form.

"Again, one might see that same woman afflicted, suffering, and gravely ill, lying fouled in her own urine and excrement, lifted up by some and set down by others. What do you think, monks? Has her former beauty and loveliness vanished and the danger become evident?"— "Yes, venerable sir."—"Monks, this too is a danger in the case of form.

"Again, one might see that same woman alason)se thrown aside in a charnel ground, one, two, or three days dead, bloated, livid, and oozing matter. What do you think, monks? Has her former beauty and loveliness vanished and the danger become evident?"—"Yes, venerable sir."—"Monks, this too is a danger in the case of form.

"Again, one might see that same woman as a corpse thrown aside in a charnel ground, being devoured by crows, hawks, vultures, dogs, jackals, or various kinds of worms ... a skeleton with flesh and blood, held together with sinews ... a fleshless skeleton smeared with blood, held together with sinews ... a skeleton without flesh and blood, held together with sinews ... disconnected bones scattered in all directions—here a hand-bone, there a foot-bone, here a thigh-bone, there a rib-bone, here a hip-bone, there a back-bone, here the skull ... bones bleached white, the color of shells ... bones heaped up ... bones more than a year old, rotted and crumbled to dust. What do you think, monks? Has her former beauty and loveliness vanished and the danger become evident?"—"Yes, venerable sir."—"Monks, this too is a danger in the case of form.

"And what, monks, is the escape in the case of form? It is the removal of desire and lust, the abandonment of desire and lust for form. This is the escape in the case of form.

"That those ascetics and brahmins who do not understand as it really is the gratification as gratification, the danger as danger, and the escape as escape in the case of form, can either themselves fully understand form or instruct others so that they can fully understand form— that is impossible. That those ascetics and brahmins who understand

as it really is the gratification as gratification, the danger as danger, and the escape as escape in the case of form, can themselves fully understand form and instruct others so that they can fully understand form—that is possible.

"And what, monks, is the gratification in the case of feelings? Here, monks, quite secluded from sensual pleasures, secluded from unwholesome states, a monk enters upon and dwells in the first jhana, which is accompanied by thought and examination, with rapture and happiness born of seclusion. On such an occasion he does not choose for his own affliction, or for another's affliction, or for the affliction of both. On that occasion he feels only feeling that is free from affliction. The highest gratification in the case of feelings is freedom from affliction, I say.

"Again, with the stilling of thought and examination, a monk enters upon and dwells in the second jhana.... With the fading away as well of rapture ... he enters upon and dwells in the third jhana.... With the abandoning of pleasure and pain he enters upon and dwells in the fourth jhana.... On such an occasion he does not choose for his own affliction, or for another's affliction, or for the affliction of both. On that occasion he feels only feeling that is free from affliction. The highest gratification in the case of feelings is freedom from affliction, I say.

"And what, monks, is the danger in the case of feelings? Feelings are impermanent, suffering, and subject to change. This is the danger in the case of feelings.

"And what, monks, is the escape in the case of feelings? It is the removal of desire and lust, the abandonment of desire and lust for feelings. This is the escape in the case of feelings.

"That those ascetics and brahmins who do not understand as it really is the gratification as gratification, the danger as danger, and the escape as escape in the case of feelings, can either themselves fully understand feelings or instruct others so that they can fully understand feelings—that is impossible. That those ascetics and brahmins who understand as it really is the gratification as gratification, the danger as danger, and the escape as escape in the case of feelings, can themselves fully understand feelings and instruct others so that they can fully understand feelings—that is possible."

That is what the Blessed One said. The monks were satisfied and delighted in the Blessed One's words. (BW, 194-199)

Just as a dew drop on the tip of a blade of grass will quickly vanish at sunrise and will not last long; even so, brahmins, is human life like a dew drop. It is short, limited, and brief; it is full of suffering, full of tribulation. This one should wisely understand. One should do good and live a pure life; for none who is born can escape death.

Just as, when rain falls from the sky in thick drops, a bubble appearing on the water will quickly vanish and will not last long; even so, brahmins, is human life like a water bubble. It is short ... for none who is born can escape death.

Just as a line drawn on water with a stick will quickly vanish and will not last long; even so, brahmins, is human life like a line drawn on water. It is short ... for none who is born can escape death.

Just as a mountain stream, coming from afar, swiftly flowing, carrying along much flotsam, will not stand still for a moment, an instant, a second, but will rush on, swirl and flow forward; even so, brahmins, is human life like a mountain stream. It is short ... for none who is born can escape death.

Just as a strong man might form a lump of spittle at the tip of his tongue and spit it out with ease; even so, brahmins, is human life like a lump of spittle. It is short ... for none who is born can escape death.

Just as a piece of meat thrown into an iron pan heated all day will quickly burn up and will not last long; even so, brahmins, is human life like this piece of meat. It is short ... for none who is born can escape death.

Just as, when a cow to be slaughtered is led to the shambles, whenever she lifts a leg she will be closer to slaughter, closer to death; even so, brahmins, is human life like cattle doomed to slaughter; it is short, limited, and brief. It is full of suffering, full of tribulation. This one should wisely understand. One should do good and live a pure life; for none who is born can escape death.  (BW, 206)

Whatever should be done by a compassionate teacher who, out of compassion, seeks the welfare of his disciples, that I have done for you. These are the roots of trees, O monks, these are empty huts. Meditate, monks, do not be negligent, or else you will regret it later. This is our instruction to you. (BW, 207)

For such a long time, monks, you have experienced suffering, anguish, disaster, and swelled the cemetery. It is enough to become disenchanted with all formations, enough to become dispassionate toward them, enough to be liberated from them. (BW, 220)

[The Venerable Ananda said:] “Venerable sir, this is half of the spiritual life, that is, good friendship, good companionship, good comradeship.”

        “Not so, Ananda! Not so, Ananda! This is the entire spiritual life, Ananda, that is, good friendship, good companionship, good comradeship, When a monk has a good friend, a good companion, a good comrade, it is to be expected that he will develop and cultivate the Noble Eightfold Path.” (BW, 240)

Possessing this aggregate of noble moral discipline, and this noble restraint of the faculties, and possessing this noble mindfulness and clear comprehension, he resorts to a secluded resting place: the forest, the root of a tree, a mountain, a ravine, a hillside cave, a charnel ground, a jungle thicket, an open space, a heap of straw. (BW, 247)

I don't perceive even one other thing, O monks, that when undeveloped and uncultivated entails such great suffering as the mind. The mind when undeveloped and uncultivated entails great suffering.

        I do not perceive even one other thing, O monks, that when developed and cultivated entails such great happiness as the mind. The mind when developed cultivated entails great happiness. (BW, 267)

Monks, when a monk is giving attention to some sign, and owing to that sign there arise in him evil unwholesome thoughts connected with desire, hate, and delusion, then when he gives attention to some other sign connected with what is wholesome, any such evil unwholesome thoughts are abandoned in him and subside, and with their abandoning his mind becomes steadied internally, composed, unified, and concentrated. When he examines the danger in those thoughts ... his mind becomes steadied internally, composed, unified, and concentrated. When he tries to forget those thoughts and does not give attention to them ... his mind becomes steadied internally, composed, unified, and concentrated. When he gives attention to stilling the thought-formation of those thoughts ... his mind becomes steadied internally, composed, unified, and concentrated. When, with his teeth clenched and his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth, he beats down, constrains, and crushes mind with mind, any such evil unwholesome thoughts are abandoned in him and subside, and with their abandoning, his mind becomes steadied internally, composed, unified, and concentrated. This monk is then called a master of the courses of thought. He will think whatever thought he wishes to think and he will not think any thought that he does not wish to think. He has severed craving, flung off the fetters, and with the complete penetration of conceit he has made an end of suffering. (BW, 277-78)

Monks, even if bandits were to sever you savagely limb by limb with a two-handled saw, he who gave rise to a mind of hate toward them would not be carrying out my teaching. Herein, monks, you should train thus: “Our minds will remain unaffected, and we shall utter no bitter words; we shall abide compassionate for their welfare, with a mind of loving-kindness, never in a mood of hate. We shall abide pervading them with a mind imbued with loving-kindness; and starting with them, we shall abide pervading the all-encompassing world with a mind imbued with loving-kindness, abundant, exalted, immeasurable, without hostility, and without ill will.” That is how you should train, monks. (BW, 278-9)

Again, monks, a monk is one who acts with clear comprehension when going forward and returning; who acts with clear comprehension when looking ahead and looking away; who acts with clear comprehension when bending and stretching his limbs; who acts with clear comprehension when wearing his robes and carrying his outer robe and bowl; who acts with clear comprehension when eating, drinking, chewing, and tasting; who acts with clear comprehension when defecating and urinating; who acts with clear comprehension when walking, standing, sitting, falling asleep, waking up, talking, and keeping silent.

In this way he dwells contemplating the body in the body internally, externally, and both internally and externally.... And he dwells independent, not clinging to anything in the world. That too is how a monk dwells contemplating the body in the body.

Again, monks, a monk reviews this same body up from the soles of the feet and down from the top of the hair, bounded by skin, as full of many kinds of impurity thus: 'In this body there are head-hairs, body-hairs, nails, teeth, skin, flesh, sinews, bones, bone-marrow, kidneys, heart, liver, diaphragm, spleen, lungs, intestines, mesentery, stomach, feces, bile, phlegm, pus, blood, sweat, fat, tears, grease, spittle, snot, oil of the joints, and urine.'" Just as though there were a bag with an opening at both ends full of many sorts of grain, such as hill rice, red rice, beans, peas, millet, and white rice, and a man with good eyes were to open it and review it thus: 'This is hill rice, this is red rice, these are beans, these are peas, this is millet, this is white rice'; so too, a monk reviews this same body ... as full of many kinds of impurity thus: 'In this body there are head-hairs ... and urine.

In this way he dwells contemplating the body in the body internally, externally, and both internally and externally.... And he dwells independent, not clinging to anything in the world. That too is how a monk dwells contemplating the body in the body. (BW, 283)

Again, monks, as though he were to see a corpse thrown aside in a charnel ground, one, two, or three days dead, bloated, livid, and oozing matter, a monk compares this same body with it thus: 'This body too is of the same nature, it will be like that, it is not exempt from that fate.'

In this way he dwells contemplating the body in the body internally, externally, and both internally and externally.... And he dwells independent, not clinging to anything in the world. That too is how a monk dwells contemplating the body in the body.

Again, as though he were to see a corpse thrown aside in a charnel ground, being devoured by crows, hawks, vultures, dogs, jackals, or various kinds of worms, a monk compares this same body with it thus: 'This body too is of the same nature, it will be like that, it is not exempt from that fate.'

...That too is how a monk dwells contemplating the body in the body. Again, as though he were to see a corpse thrown aside in a charnel ground, a skeleton with flesh and blood, held together with sinews ... a fleshless skeleton smeared with blood, held together with sinews ... a skeleton without flesh and blood, held together with sinews ... disconnected bones scattered in all directions—here a hand-bone, there a foot-bone, here a shin-bone, there a thigh-bone, here a hip-bone, there a back-bone, here the skull—a monk compares this same body with it thus: 'This body too is of the same nature, it will be like that, it is not exempt from that fate.'

...That too is how a monk dwells contemplating the body in the body.

Again, as though he were to see a corpse thrown aside in a charnel ground, bones bleached white, the color of shells ... bones heaped up ... bones more than a year old, rotted and crumbled to dust, a monk compares this same body with it thus: 'This body too is of the same nature, it will be like that, it is not exempt from that fate.'

In this way he dwells contemplating the body in the body internally, or he dwells contemplating the body in the body externally, or he dwells contemplating the body in the body both internally and externally. Or else he dwells contemplating in the body its nature of arising, or he dwells contemplating in the body its nature of vanishing, or he dwells contemplating in the body its nature of both arising and vanishing. Or else mindfulness that 'there is a body' is simply established in him to the extent necessary for bare knowledge and repeated mindfulness. And he dwells independent, not clinging to anything in the world. That too is how a monk dwells contemplating the body in the body. (BW, 284-5)

Any kind of form whatsoever, monk, whether past, future, or present, internal or external, gross or subtle, inferior or superior, far or near—one sees all forms as it really is with correct wisdom thus: ‘This is not mine, this I am not, this is not my self.’

Any kind of feeling whatsoever … Any kind of perception whatsoever … Any kind of volitional formations whatsoever … Any kind of consciousness whatsoever, whether past, future, or present, internal or external, gross or subtle, inferior or superior, far or near—one sees all consciousness as it really is with correct wisdom thus: ‘This is not mine, this I am not, this is not my self.’ (BW, 341)

Seeing thus, monks, the instructed noble disciple becomes disenchanted with form, disenchanted with feeling, disenchanted with perception, disenchanted with volitional formations, disenchanted with consciousness. Becoming disenchanted, he becomes dispassionate. Through dispassion [his mind] is liberated. When it is liberated there comes the knowledge: ‘It’s liberated.’ He understands: ‘Destroyed is birth, the spiritual life has been lived, what had to be done has been done, there is no more coming back to any state of being.’

Monks, form is impermanent. What is impermanent is suffering. What is suffering is nonself. What is nonself should be seen as it really is with correct wisdom thus: ‘This is not mine, this I am not, this is not my self.’ When one sees this thus as it really is with correct wisdom, the mind becomes dispassionate and is liberated from the taints by nonclinging. (BW, 342)

Monks, suppose that this river Ganges was carrying along a great lump of foam. A man with good sight would inspect it, ponder it, and properly investigate it, and it would appear to him to be void, hollow, insubstantial. For what substance could there be in a lump of foam? So too, monks, whatever kind of form there is, whether past, future, or present, internal or external, gross or subtle, inferior or superior, far or near: a monk inspects it, ponders it, and properly investigates it, and it would appear to him to be void, hollow, insubstantial. For what substance could there be in form?

Suppose, monks, that in the autumn, when it is raining and big rain drops are falling, a water bubble arises and bursts on the surface of the water. A man with good sight would inspect it, ponder it, and properly investigate it, and it would appear to him to be void, hollow, insubstantial. For what substance could there be in a water bubble? So too, monks, whatever kind of feeling there is, whether past, future, or present, internal or external, gross or subtle, inferior or superior, far or near: a monks inspects it, ponders it, and properly investigates it, and it would appear to him to be void, hollow, insubstantial. For what substance could there be in feeling? (BW, 343-4)

“Monks, all is burning. And what, monks, is the all that is burning? The eye is burning, forms are burning, eye-consciousness is burning, eye-contact is burning, and whatever feeling arises with eye-contact as condition—whether pleasant or painful or neither-painful-nonpleasant—that too is burning. Burning with what? Burning with the fire of lust, with the fire of hatred, with the fire of delusion; burning with birth, aging, and death; with sorrow, lamentation, pain, dejection, and despair, I say.

“The ear is burning ... The mind is burning ... and whatever feeling arises with mind-contact as condition—whether pleasant or painful or neither-painful-nor-pleasant—that too is burning. Burning with what? Burning with the fire of lust, with the fire of hatred, with the fire of delusion; burning with birth, aging, and death; with sorrow, lamentation, pain, dejection, and despair, I say.

“Seeing thus, monks, the instructed noble disciple becomes disenchanted with the eye, with forms, with eye-consciousness, with eyecontact, with whatever feeling arises with eye-contact as condition—whether pleasant or painful or neither-painful-nor-pleasant; becomes disenchanted with the ear ... with the mind ... with whatever feeling arises with mind-contact as condition.... Becoming disenchanted, he becomes dispassionate. Through dispassion [his mind] is liberated. When it is liberated there comes the knowledge: 'It's liberated.' He understands: 'Destroyed is birth, the spiritual life has been lived, what had to be done has been done, there is no more coming back to any state of being.”

This is what the Blessed One said. Elated, those monks delighted in the Blessed One's statement. And while this discourse was being spoken, the minds of the thousand monks were liberated from the taints by nonclinging. (BW, 346)

"Monks, I will teach you dependent origination. Listen to that andattend closely, I will speak."—"Yes, venerable sir," those monks replied. The Blessed One said this: "And what, monks, is dependent origination? With ignorance as condition, volitional formations [come to be]; with volitional formations as condition, consciousness; with consciousness as condition, name-and-form; with name-and-form as condition, the six sense bases; with the six sense bases as condition, contact; with contact as condition, feeling; with feeling as condition, craving; with craving as condition, clinging; with clinging as condition, existence; with existence as condition, birth; with birth as condition, aging-and-death, sorrow, lamentation, pain, dejection, and despair come to be. Such is the origin of this whole mass of suffering. This monks, is called dependent origination. But with the remainderless fading away and cessation of ignorance comes cessation of volitional formations; with the cessation of volitional formations, cessation of consciousness; with the cessation of consciousness, cessation of name-and-form; with the cessation of name-and-form, cessation of the six sense bases; with the cessation of the six sense bases, cessation of contact; with the cessation of contact, cessation of feeling; with the cessation of feeling, cessation of craving; with the cessation of craving, cessation of clinging; with the cessation of clinging, cessation of existence; with the cessation of existence, cessation of birth; with the cessation of birth, aging-and-death, sorrow, lamentation, pain, dejection, and despair cease. Such is the cessation of this whole mass of suffering." (BW, 353)

Therefore, monks, an exertion should be made to understand: ‘This is suffering.’ An exertion should be made to understand: ‘This is the origin of suffering.’ An exertion should be made to understand: ‘This is the cessation of suffering.’ An exertion should be made to understand: ‘This is the way leading to the cessation of suffering.’ (BW, 359)

Monks, I will teach you the uninclined ... the taintless ... the truth ... the far shore ... the subtle ... the very difficult to see ... the unaging ... the stable ... the undisintegrating ... the unmanifest ... the unproliferated ... the peaceful ... the deathless ... the sublime ... the auspicious ... the secure .... the destruction of craving ... the wonderful ... at the amazing ... the unailing ... the unailing state ... Nibbana ... the Ven- unafflicted ... dispassion ... purity ... freedom ... nonattachment had the island ... the shelter ... the asylum ... the refuge ... the destination and the path leading to the destination. Listen ....

And what, monks, is the destination? The destruction of lust, the destruction of hatred, the destruction of delusion: this is called the destination.

And what, monks, is the path leading to the destination? Mindfulness directed to the body: this is called the path leading to the destination.

Thus, monks, I have taught you the unconditioned ... the destination and the path leading to the destination. Whatever should be done, monks, by a compassionate teacher out of compassion for his disciples, desiring their welfare, that I have done for you. These are the roots of trees, monks, these are empty huts. Meditate, monks, do not be right negligent, lest you regret it later. This is my instruction to you. (BW, 365)

There is, monks, that base where there is neither earth, nor water, nor heat, nor air; neither the base of the infinity of space, nor the base of the infinity of consciousness, nor the base of nothingness, nor the base of neither-perception-nor-non-perception; neither this world nor another world; neither sun nor moon. Here, monks, I say there is no coming, no going, no standing still; no passing away and no being reborn It is not established, not moving, without support. Just this is the end of suffering. (BW, 365-66)

“If someone were to ask you, Vaccha: ‘When that fire before you was extinguished, to which direction did it go: to the east, the west, the north, or the south?’—being asked thus, what would you answer?”

        “That does not apply, Master Gotama. The fire burned in dependence on its fuel of grass and sticks. When that is used up, if it does not get any more fuel, being without fuel, it is reckoned as extinguished.”

        “So too, Vaccha, the Tathagata has abandoned that form by which one describing the Tathagata might describe him; he has cut it off at the root, made it like a palm stump, done away with it so that it is no longer subject to future arising.” (BW, 368)

Monks, there are five faculties. What five? The faculty of faith, the faculty of energy, the faculty of mindfulness, the faculty of concentration, the faculty of wisdom. These are the five faculties…. But, monks, I say that one is whom these five faculties are completely and totally absent is ‘an outsider, one standing amid the worldlings.’ (BW, 385)

Suppose, friend, there were s tone pillar sixteen meters long, either meters sunk in the ground and eight meters above the ground. Then a powerful rainstorm would come from the east: the pillar would not budge, would not shake, would not tremble. Then a powerful rainstorm would come from the north … from the west … from the south … the pillar would not budge, would not shake, would not tremble. Why? Because of the depth of the base and because the stone pillar bas been deeply planted. So too for a monk thus liberated in mind, if powerful sense objects come into range, they do not obsess his mind; his mind remains uncontaminated, steady, attained to imperturbability, and he contemplates their fall. (BW, 408-9)

'The tides of conceiving do not sweep over one who standsupon these [foundations], and when the tides of conceiving no longer sweep over him he is called a sage at peace.' So it was said. And with reference to what was this said?

Monk, 'I am' is a conceiving; 'I am this' is a conceiving; 'I shall be' is a conceiving; 'I shall not be' is a conceiving; 'I shall have a physical form' is a conceiving; 'I shall be formless' is a conceiving; 'I shall be percipient' is a conceiving; 'I shall be nonpercipient' is a conceiving; 'I shall be neither-percipient-nor-nonpercipient' is a conceiving. Con-ceiving is a disease, conceiving is a tumor, conceiving is a dart. By over-coming all conceivings, monk, one is called a sage at peace. And the sage at peace is not born, does not age, does not die; he is not shaken and does not yearn. For there is nothing present in him by which he might be born." Not being born, how could he age? Not aging, how could he die? Not dying, how could he be shaken? Not being shaken, why should he yearn? (BW, 412)

Above, across, and below,

Delight is no more found in them.

They boldly sound their lion’s roar:

“The enlightened are supreme in the world.”

(BW, 413)

Enraptured with lust, enraged with anger, blinded by delusion, overwhelmed, with mind ensnared, man aims at his own ruin, at the others’ ruin, at the ruin of both parties, and he experiences mental pain and grief. But if lust, anger and delusion are given up, man aims neither at his own ruin, nor at the others’ ruin, nor at the ruin of both parties, and he experiences no mental pain and grief. Thus is Nibbana immediate, visible in this life, inviting, attractive and comprehensible to the wise. (BB, 32)

Bhikkhus, before my enlightenment, while I was still only an unenlightened bodhisatta, I too, being myself subject to birth, being myself subject to ageing, sickness, death, sorrow and defilement, I sought what was also subject to ageing, sickness, death, sorrow and defilement. Then I considered thus: “Why, being myself subject to birth, do I seek what is also subject to birth? Why, being myself subject to ageing, sickness, death, sorrow and defilement, do I seek what is also subject to ageing, sickness, death, sorrow and defilement? Suppose that, being myself subject to birth, I seek the unborn supreme security from bondage, nibbana. Suppose that, myself being subject to ageing, sickness, death, sorrow and defilement, having understood the danger in what is subject to ageing, sickness, death, sorrow and defilement, I seek the unageing, unailing, deathless, sorrowless and undefiled supreme security from bondage, nibbana.” (BS, 107)

At the time of going for amusement in his gardens, he saw in sequence three divine messengers, namely, an old person, a sick person and a dead person, and shocked as he was, he turned back each time. On a fourth occasion, he saw one who had renounced the world, and having the thought ‘renunciation is good’, he developed the intent to go forth into the life of an ascetic. He went to the garden and then spent the day there, sitting on the bank of the royal pond where he was adorned by the god Vissukamma who came disguised as a barber . He then heard the message that his son Rahula had been born, and knowing the force of a parent’s love for a child, he thought, ‘This is a tie that binds and I will cut it indeed.’ (BS, 119)

O Ananda, be ye lamps unto yourselves. Be ye refuges to yourselves. Hold fast to the Dharma as a lamp. Hold fast to the Dharma as a refuge. Look not for refuge to any one beside yourselves. (BB, 4)

The Perfect One, Brothers, the holy One, the Fully Enlightened One, at Isipatana in the deer-park at Benares, has established the Supreme Kingdom of Truth, which none can overthrow—neither ascetic nor priest, nor heavenly being, nor evil spirit, nor god, nor any one whosoever in all the world,—by proclaiming, pointing out, making known, establishing, unveiling, explaining and making evident the Four Noble Truths. (BB, 22)

And thus have you long time undergone suffering, undergone torment, undergone misfortune and filled the graveyards full, verily long enough to be dissatisfied with every form of existence, long enough to turn away and free yourselves from them all. (BB, 29)

But each one has to struggle for himself, the Perfect Ones have only pointed out the way. (BB, 33)

And by thus considering, three fetters vanish, namely: Self-illusion, Scepticism and Attachment to Rule and Ritual. (BB, 36)

Suppose, a householder, or his son, or someone reborn in any family hears the law, and after hearing the law he is filled with confidence in the Perfect One. And filled with this confidence, he thinks: Full of hindrances is household life, a refuse heap; but pilgrim life is like the open air. Not easy is it, when one lives at home, to fulfill point by point the rules of the holy life. How, if now I were to cut off hair and beard, put on the yellow robe and go forth from home to the homeless life? And in a short time, having given up his more or less extensive possessions, having forsaken a smaller or larger circle of relations, he cuts off hair and beard, puts on the yellow robe, and goes forth from home to the homeless life. (BB, 56)

However, disciples, it may be that (after my passing away) you might think: Gone is the doctrine of our Master. We have no Master more. But thus you should not think; for the Law and the Discipline, which I have taught you, will, after my death, be your master.

The Law be your light,

The Law be your refuge!

Do not look for any other refuge! (BB, 60)

Then Rupyavati cut off her breasts with the sharp knife,

Like two golden water-pots gushing with blood.

She gave them to the starving young woman,

Unconcerned with the suffering of her own body.

Those who are indifferent to their own suffering

Remove the suffering of living beings.

For they are troubled by the suffering of others,

But not by the suffering of themselves.

[…]

The charming belt and garment on her beautiful body

Were stained with blood that had gushed forth from her severed breasts.

She looked like a golden image

That has been worshipped with saffron powder. (BS, 165)

Did you ever see in the world a man or a woman, eighty, ninety, or a hundred years old, frail, crooked as a gableroof, bent down, supported on a staff, with tottering steps, infirm, youth long since fled, with broken teeth, grey and scanty hair, or bald-headed, wrinkled, with blotched limbs? And did the thought never come to you, that you also are subject to decay, that you cannot escape it?

Did you never see in the world a man or a woman, who, being sick, afflicted and grievously ill, and wallowing in one’s own filth, was lifted up by some people and put to bed by others? And did the thought never come to you, that you also are subject to disease, that you cannot escape it? Did you never see in the world the corpse of a man or a woman, one or two or three days after death, swollen up, blueblack in colour, and full of corruption? And did the thought never come to you, that you also are subject to death, that you cannot escape it? (BB, 28)

There are Four Great Efforts: the effort to avoid, the effort to overcome, the effort to develop, and the effort to maintain. (BB, 45)

Just as if there were a sack, with openings at both ends, filled with all kinds of grain,—with paddy, beans, sesamum and husked rice—and a man not blind opened it and examined its contents, thus: That is paddy, these are beans, this is sesamum, this is husked rice; even so does the disciple investigate this body. (BB, 49)

Once the contemplation of the body is practised, developed, often repeated, has become one’s habit, one’s foundation, is firmly established, strengthened and well perfected, one may expect ten blessings:

Over Delight and Discontent one has mastery; one does not allow one’s self to be overcome by discontent; one subdues it as soon as it arises.

One conquers Fear and Anxiety; one does not allow one’s self to be overcome by fear and anxiety; one subdues them as soon as they arise .

One endures cold and heat, hunger and thirst, wind and sun, attacks by gadflies, mosquitoes and reptiles patiently one endures wicked and malicious speech, as well as bodily pains, that befall one, though they be piercing, sharp, bitter, unpleasant, disagreeable and dangerous to life. (BB, 49)

Just as the elephant hunter drives a huge stake into the ground and chains the wild elephant to it by the neck, in order to drive out of him his wonted forest ways and wishes, his forest unruliness, obstinacy and violence, and to accustom him to the environment of the village, and to teach him such good behaviour as is required amongst men:—in like manner also has the noble disciple to fix his mind firmly to these four fundamentals of attentiveness, so that he may drive out of himself his wonted worldly ways and wishes, his wonted worldly unruliness, obstinacy and violence, and win to the True and realise Nibbana. (BB, 55)

Those people who do not understand your auspicious and wondrous ways are utterly confused, like grass twisted together. (BS, 218)

All formations are transient (anicca); all formations are subject to suffering (dukkha); all things are without an Ego-entity (anatta). Form is transient, feeling is transient, perception is transient, mental formations are transient, consciousness is transient.

And that which is transient is subject to suffering and of that which is transient and subject to suffering and change, one cannot rightly say: —This belongs to me this am I this is my Ego.

Therefore, whatever there be of bodily form, of feeling, perception, mental formations or consciousness, whether one’s own or external, whether gross or subtle, lofty or low, far or near, one should understand according to reality and true wisdom: —This does not belong to me this am I not this is not my Ego.

Suppose, a man, who can see, were to behold the many bubbles on the Ganges as they are driving along. And he should watch them and carefully examine them. After carefully examining them, they will appear to him as empty, unreal, and unsubstantial. In exactly the same way does the monk behold all the bodily forms, feelings, perceptions, mental formations and states of consciousness—whether they be of the past, or the present, or the future, far or near. And he watches them and examines them carefully, and, after carefully examining them, they appear to him as empty, void and without an Ego.

Whoso delights in bodily form, or feeling, or perception, or mental formations, or consciousness, he delights in suffering and whoso delights in suffering will not be freed from suffering. Thus I say. (BB, 27)

Thus, whatever kind of Feeling one experiences,—pleasant, unpleasant or indifferent—one approves of and cherishes the feeling and clings to it; and while doing so, lust springs up; but lust for feelings means clinging to existence (upadana); and on clinging to existence depends the (action-) Process of Becoming (bhava, here kamma-bhava); on the process of becoming depends (future) Birth (jati); and dependent on birth are Decay and Death, sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief and despair. Thus arises this whole mass of suffering.

This is called the Noble Truth of the Origin of Suffering. Verily, due to sensuous craving, conditioned through sensuous craving, impelled by sensuous craving, entirely moved by sensuous craving, kings fight with kings, princes with princes, priests with priests, citizens with citizens; the mother quarrels with the son, the son with the mother, the father with the son, the son with the father; brother quarrels with brother, brother with sister, sister with brother, friend with friend. Thus given to dissension, quarrelling and fighting, they fall upon one another with fists, sticks or weapons. And thereby they suffer death or deadly pain .

And further, due to sensuous craving, conditioned through sensuous craving, impelled by sensuous craving, entirely moved by sensuous craving, people break into houses, rob and plunder, pillage whole houses, commit highway robbery, seduce the wives of others. Then the rulers have such people caught and inflict on them various forms of punishment. And thereby they incur death or deadly pain. Now, this is the misery of sensuous craving, the heaping up of suffering in this present life, due to sensuous craving, conditioned through sensuous craving, caused by sensuous craving, entirely dependent on sensuous craving. (BB, 29-30)

Should anyone say that he does not wish to lead the holy life under the Blessed One, unless the Blessed One first tells him, whether the world is eternal or temporal, finite or infinite whether the life principle is identical with the body, or something different: whether the Perfect One continues after death etc.—Such an one would die, ere the Perfect One could tell him all this.

It is as if a man were pierced by a poisoned arrow, and his friends, companions, or near relations called in a surgeon, but that man should say: I will not have this arrow pulled out until I know, who the man is, that has wounded me; whether he is a noble, a prince, a citizen, or a servant; or: whether he is tall, or short, or of medium height. Verily, such a man would die, ere he could adequately learn all this.

Therefore, the man, who seeks his own welfare, should pull out this arrow—this arrow of lamentation, pain and sorrow. (BB, 35)

The Buddha is like the full moon; the dharma taught by him is like the shedding of the moon’s effulgence; and the sangha is like the world inspired with happiness by the effulgence of the full moon. The Buddha is like the rising sun; the dharma as already stated is like the web of his rays; and the sangha is like the world rid by him of darkness. […] The Buddha is like the great rain-cloud; the dharma is like a downpour of rain; and the sangha, in which the dust of defilement has been laid, is like the countryside in which the dust has been laid by the fall of rain. […] Or else the Buddha is like a good guide; the dharma is like a good path to a land of safety; and the sangha is like [people] who enter upon the path and reach the land of safety. […] The Buddha is like a consoler; the dharma is like a consolation; and the sangha is like people consoled. […]  The Buddha is like an opened lotus flower; the dharma is like the honey being given its being by that [flower]; and the sahgha is like a swarm of bees making use of that [honey]. (BS, 102-4)

The person who is regarded as a sourc