Existence is infinite, not to be defined. And though it seem but a bit of wood in your hand, to carve as you please, it is not to be lightly played with and laid down.

When rulers adhered to the way of life, they were upheld by natural loyalty. Heaven and earth were joined and made fertile, life was a freshness of rain—subject to none, free to all.

But men of culture came, with their grades and their distinctions; and as soon as such differences had been devised no one knew where to end them. Though the one who does know the end of all such differences is the sound man.

Existence might be likened to the course of many rivers reaching the one sea.