“Nature has many tricks wherewith she convinces man of his infinity, – the ceaseless flow of the tides, the fury of storm, the shock of the earthquake, the long roll of heavens artillery, – but the most tremendous, the most stupefying of all, is the passive phase of the White Silence. All movement ceases, the sky clears, the heavens are as brass; the slightest whisper seems sacrilege, and man becomes timid, affrighted at the sound of his own voice. Sole speck of life journeying across the ghostly wastes of a dead world, he trembles at his audacity, realizes that his is a maggots life, nothing more. Strange thoughts arise unsummoned, and the mystery of all things strives for utterance. And the fear of death, of God, of the universe, comes over him, – the hope of the Resurrection and the life, the yearning for immortality, the vain striving of the imprisoned essence, – it is then, if ever, man walks alone with God.” — Jack London

“The nature of the psyche reaches into obscurities far beyond the scope of our understanding. It contains as many riddles as the universe with its galactic systems, before whose majestic configurations only a mind lacking in imagination can fail to admit its own insufficiency. This extreme uncertainty of human comprehension makes the intellectualistic hubbub not only ridiculous, but also deplorably dull. If, therefore, from the needs of his own heart, or in accordance with the ancient lessons of human wisdom, or out of respect for the psychological fact that “telepathic” perceptions do occur, anyone should draw the conclusion that the psyche, in its deepest reaches, participates in a form of existence beyond space and time, and thus partakes of what is inadequately and symbolically described as “eternity” — Carl Gustav Jung

“This is the irony: Buddhist meditation teachers counsel a kind of detachment that should in theory leave you neither happy nor sad. But by the end of one of these retreats, almost invariably, you’re happy. And you’re happy in particular ways: more appreciative of beauty, feeling more distance from ordinary anxieties, feeling more kinship with other humans and with other forms of life. You’re also easier to be around—less defensive, less emotionally reactive, etc.”
—

Robert Wright

“We are all convinced that we desire the truth above all. Nothing strange about this. It is natural to man, an intelligent being, to desire the truth. (I still dare to speak of man as ‘an intelligent being’!) But actually, what we desire is not ‘the truth’ so much as it is to be in ‘the right.’ To seek the pure truth for its own sake may be natural to us, but we are not able to act always in this respect according to our nature. What we seek is not the pure truth, but the partial truth that justifies our prejudices, our limitations, our selfishness. This is not ‘the truth.’ It is only an argument strong enough to prove our ‘right.’ And usually our desire to be right is correlative to our conviction that somebody else (and perhaps everyone else) is wrong.
Why do we want to prove them wrong? Because we need them to be wrong. For if they are wrong, and we are right, then our untruth becomes truth: our selfishness becomes justice and virtue: our cruelty and lust cannot be fairly condemned. We can rest secure in the fiction we determined to embrace as ‘truth.’ What we desire is not the truth, but rather that our lie should be proved ‘right’ and our iniquity be vindicated as ‘just.’ This is what we have done to pervert our natural, instinctive appetite for truth.
No wonder we hate. No wonder we are violent. No wonder we exhaust ourselves in preparing for war! And in doing so, of course, we offer the enemy another reason to believe that he is right, that he must arm, that he must get ready to destroy us. Our own lie provides the foundation of truth on which he erects his own lie, and the two lies together react to produce hatred, murder, disaster.”
— Thomas Merton

“The other day there was a beautiful whistling of titmice - and now today one of them lay dead on the grass under the house, which may well have been some fault of mine, as we dumped some calcium chloride on a couple of anthills - not as a poison but as something to move them elsewhere. What a miserable bunch of foolish idiots we are! We kill everything around us even when we think we love and respect nature and life. This sudden power to deal death all around us simply by the way we live, and in total “innocence” and ignorance, is by far the most disturbing symptom of our time.”
— Thomas Merton, When the Trees Say Nothing

“It is not enough merely to look into the space of happiness or sadness; it is important to have pure presence constant in that flow. If the power of meditation is not constant, it is impossible to remain long in the place of nondual perception. Thoughts that arise intermittently will break the continuity, and radiating out from this, like ripples on a pond, the poisonous taste of emotion will arise to obstruct the meditation. As gross thoughts increase, ripples become rough waves that intensify the emotion. Until subtle emotions are left behind, we cannot eradicate suffering, so it is crucially important to sustain the state of meditation. When we gain strong familiarity by staying in that space for a long time, then no matter what thoughts arise, whether gross or subtle, they will not be able to dislodge us: upon recognizing the first thought, whatever thought it may be, in that very moment, we realize it to be the play of the spontaneous creativity of dharmakaya. Like a wave falling back into the ocean, the thought vanishes into the dharmakaya. In that space of naked empty pure presence that is the view, always cherishing thoughts of the five poisonous emotions and all the movements of body, speech, and mind, and the acts of eating, sleeping, moving, and sitting, we are known as the yogins and yoginis who stand guard over the shifting dharmakaya display. This is the supreme method of sustaining the essence of meditation. According to Dzogchen teaching, this is unadulterated by any kind of focus; it is called ‘the great meditation that is nonmeditation.’”
— The Great Secret of Mind: Special Instructions on the Nonduality of Dzogchen, by Tulku Pema Rigtsal, translated by Keith Dowman, pages 154–155

Here is the list of my favourite books from Thich Nhat Hanh

Peace Is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life
Peace Is Every Step contains commentaries and meditations, personal anecdotes and stories from Nhat Hanh's experiences as a peace activist, teacher, and community leader.

The Miracle of Mindfulness: An Introduction to the Practice of Meditation
Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh offers gentle anecdotes and practical exercise as a means of learning the skills of mindfulness

True Love: A Practice for Awakening the Heart
Thich Nhat Hanh here shows the way to overcome our recurrent obstacles to love—by learning to be mindful, open, and present with ourselves and others.

Anger: Wisdom for Cooling the Flames
On this book, Buddhist monk and Vietnam refugee Thich Nhat Hanh gives tools and advice for transforming relationships, focusing energy, and rejuvenating those parts of ourselves that have been laid waste by anger.

Living Buddha, Living Christ
Thich Nhat Hanh explores the crossroads of compassion and holiness at which the two traditions meet, and he reawakens our understanding of both.

You Are Here: Discovering the Magic of the Present Moment
Thich Nhat Hanh provides indispensable insight on the essentials of Buddhist thought and offers a range of simple, everyday practices for cultivating mindfulness.

Hi, My name is Cipriano Esposito and this is my blog about books. I love to read and I'll use this space to share opinions about books.