If all men lead mechanical, unpoetical lives, this is the real nihilism, the real undoing of the world.

The object of our lives is to look at, listen to, touch, taste things. Without them, - these sticks, stones, feathers, shells, - there is no Deity.

There is no greater difference between men than between grateful and ungrateful people.

Think of Zen, of the Void, of Good and Evil and you are bound hand and foot. Think only and entirely and completely of what you are doing at the moment and you are free as a bird.

A haiku is the expression of a temporary enlightenment, in which we see into the life of things.

I myself think that to have a cat is more important than to have a Bible.

Zen is the unsymbolization of the world.

What is essential is not the answer but the questions; the answers indeed are the death of the life that is in the questions.

The love of nature is religion, and that religion is poetry; these three things are one thing. This is the unspoken creed of haiku poets.

Regarding R. H. Blyth: Blyth is sometimes perilous, naturally, since he's a high-handed old poem himself, but he's also sublime - and who goes to poetry for safety anyway.

Regarding R. H. Blyth: For translations, the best books are still those by R. H. Blyth. . . .

Mama says love is a sickness of the heart. Only the weak fall under its spell.

In a fight, your doubt is a target of enemy's attack.

It's the Twentieth Century ... no more miracles.

Time is about the need to control. Let go of control and embrace what happens.

We must not only be True. We must be Beautiful.

Originality is the only thing that counts. But the originator uses material and ideas that occur round him and pass through him. And out of his experience comes the original creation.

I feel like I have a skill set, but every experience is different and there's always room for improvement.

We must pick out what is good for us where we can find it.

In the end, the gesture of painting becomes almost meditative, like a ritual.

Sifting daylight dissolves the memory, turns it into dust motes floating in light.