Tao (n.) is the middle road between the opposites, freed from them yet uniting them — a wisdom that tames all that is wild without denaturing it into something 'higher'.
Tao (n.) names what the West has never named: the union of opposites through the middle path — at once the most individual fact and the most universal.
Tao (n.) was translated "God" by the Jesuits but is best rendered "meaning" — and it holds in China the paramount place causality has held with us for only two centuries.
Tao (n.) never acts, yet through it everything is done: heaven's net is wide and coarse-meshed, yet nothing slips through.
Tao (n.) faded when affirmation and negation came into being; after that came one-sided attachments — and it is obscured whenever you fix your eye on little segments of existence only.
Tao (n.) has its pivot in the state where ego and non-ego are no longer opposed — where the soul, made empty, can absorb the whole world.
Tao (n.) is the undiscovered vein within us, a flow of water moving irresistibly to its goal — and personality is Tao.
Tao (n.) is written with the signs for "head" and "going," and may be read psychologically as the conscious way, the method of uniting what has been separated, consciousness and life.
Tao (n.) must be re-established by the sage in himself through ritual meditation when heaven and earth have separated, so that he brings his own heaven and earth back into harmony.
Tao (n.) was once explained by a Chinese student from a balcony: street, houses, people, tramcars, a hill, trees, the wind blowing — "That is Tao."
The Tao (n.) is the cooperation of opposites — bright and dark, dry and humid, dragon and tiger — and has nothing to do with reconciling the Summum Bonum and the devil, Jung told a theologian.