A time when time was not Darkness cannot say: “I precede the coming light”, but there is a sense in which light can say, “Darkness preceded me”. Doubtless there is an event, X, in the future, by reference to which we may say that we are at present in a category of Not-X, but until X occurs, the category of Not-X is without reality. Only X can give reality to Not-X; that is to say, Not-Being depends for its reality upon Being. In this way we may faintly see how the creation of Time may be said automatically to create a time when Time was not, and how the Being of God can be said to create a Not-Being that is not God. Dorothy Sayers, The Mind of the Maker darknesslighttimebeing
Thin ice Today the 'depth of our being' stands on thin ice. Juhani Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin: Architecture and the Senses coldbeing
The utter nothingness of being Everything written symbols can say has already passed by. They are like tracks left by animals. That is why the masters of meditation refuse to accept that writings are final. The aim is to reach true being by means of those tracks, those letters, those signs - but reality itself is not a sign, and it leaves no tracks. It doesn’t come to us by way of letters or words. We can go toward it, by following those words and letters back to what they came from. But so long as we are preoccupied with symbols, theories and opinions, we will fail to reach the principle. "But when we give up symbols and opinions, aren’t we left in the utter nothingness of being?" Yes. Kimura Kyūho, On the Mysteries of Swordsmanship The Elements of Typographic Style zenmeaningsymbolsbeingreality
What will be has always been A Quote by Louis Kahn understandinggroup.com Ruins, Rub-outs, and Trash timebeing
Scraps of the brocade of autumn There is a story of Rikyu which well illustrates the ideas of cleanliness entertained by the tea masters. Rikyu was watching his son Shoan as he swept and watered the garden path. "Not clean enough," said Rikyu, when Shoan had finished his task, and bade him try again. After a weary hour the son turned to Rikyu: "Father, there is nothing more to be done. The steps have been washed for the third time, the stone lanterns and the trees are well sprinkled with water, moss and lichens are shining with a fresh verdure; not a twig, not a leaf have I left on the ground" "Young fool," chided the tea master, "that is not the way a garden path should be swept. "Saying this, Rikyu stepped into the garden, shook a tree and scattered over the garden gold and crimson leaves, scraps of the brocade of autumn! What Rikvu demanded was not cleanliness alone, but the beautiful and the natural also. Okakura Kakuzō, The Book of Tea In a state of reverberation wabi-sabi