General Sayings

I do not dare to speak in a loud voice, I fear to disturb the people in heaven.

Before my bed, the moon is shining bright, I roll back the hanging, gaze at the moon, and long sigh in vain.

When I sing, the moon dances. When I dance, my shadow dances, too. We share life's joys when sober. Drunk, each goes a separate way. Constant friends, although we wander, we'll meet again in the Milky Way.

Green hills above the northern wall, White water winding east of the city. On this spot our single act of parting, The lonely tumbleweed journeys ten thousand li.

What place under heaven most hurts the heart? Laolao Ting, for seeing visitors off. The spring wind knows how bitter it is to part, The willow twig will never again be green.

Foolish indeed are those who trust to fortune.

There are as many sorts of women as there are women.

Intimacy between stepchildren and stepparents is indeed proverbially difficult.

Well, we never expected this!' they all say. 'No one liked her. They all said she was pretentious, awkward, difficult to approach, prickly, too fond of her tales, haughty, prone to versifying, disdainful, cantankerous, and scornful. But when you meet…

Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before I swore—but was I sober when I swore?

Another and another Cup to drown The Memory of this Impertinence!

Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside, And dwell with the Divine, shall it abide In Sin and Error while the Flesh endures, And still rebel, howe'er the Spirit chide?

Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring The Winter Garment of Repentance fling: The Bird of Time has but a little way To flutter—and the Bird is on the Wing.

And still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields, And still a Garden by the Water builds: Ah, take the Cash in hand and waive the Rest; Oh, the brave Music of a distant Drum!

For in and out, above, about, below, 'Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show, Play'd by the Magic Lantern born of Night, And into perfect Light begins to flow.

Look to the Rose that blows about us—'Lo, Laughing,' she says, 'into the World I blow, At once the silken Tassel of my Purse Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw.'

Dreaming when Dawn's left hand was in the Sky I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry, 'Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry.'

Ah, Moon of my Delight who know'st no wane, The Moon of Heav'n is rising once again: How oft hereafter rising shall she look Through this same Garden after me—in vain!

We are no other than a moving row Of Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go Round with the Sun-illumined Lantern held In Midnight by the Master of the Show;

A Moment's Halt—a momentary taste Of Being from the Well amid the Waste—And lo! the Phantom Caravan has reach'd The Nothing it set out from—Oh, make haste!