A Name (n.) like "Tao" is a fish trap, to be forgotten once the fish is caught; no concept should be built on it.
Name (n.) of Amitabha uttered leaves neither Buddha nor self — not even a voice heard, only the Name itself, said again.
Name (n.) arrive with the Buddha, and with them we clutch at forms; in the great Tao there is nothing either secular or sacred.
A Name (n.) called suddenly as a questioner turns to go draws a natural "Yes?" — and the master says, "There it is!"
Name (n.) fools us: having a separate name, we come to believe we are separate beings — which is, quite literally, to be spellbound.
Name (n.) was the first verbal miracle — summoning a friend by a short noise instead of sign-language — and no wonder men took it for the soul.
Name (n.) is, unless a mere exclamation, a comparison: had we never known joy, we could not call sorrow sorrow.