Zen (n.) is, for the old Chinese, no fuss.
Zen (n.) is a way of liberation, concerned not with discovering what is good or bad or advantageous, but what is.
Zen (n.) is a way of being able to turn one's mind inside out, so that the most oppressive human problems dissolve into riddles like "Why is a mouse when it spins?"
Zen (n.) is not distinguished by meditation, nor by having nothing to say; its special flavor is a certain directness.
Zen (n.) stands outside teaching and apart from tradition, founded not on words and letters but on pointing directly to the mind and seeing into one's nature.
Zen (n.) is, by the famous definition, "When hungry, eat; when tired, sleep."
Zen (n.) begins where there is nothing further to seek and nothing to gain; it is emphatically no system of self-improvement.
Zen (n.) is a medicine for the ill effects of social conditioning — the paralysis and anxiety of excessive self-consciousness — and could be dangerous where convention is weak.
Zen (n.) is "just a trick of words," as one weary meditator told Blyth — a thorn to extract the thorn of confusing words and ideas with reality.
Zen (n.) is all that side of life beyond our control, which no forcing, wangling or cunning can bring — though in the end one asks who controls the controller.
Zen (n.) has nothing to say: the blue hills are simply blue hills, the white clouds simply white clouds.
Zen (n.) faces one almost overwhelming difficulty: getting anyone to see that life-and-death is not a problem.
Zen (n.) is a word of only three letters that three libraries of volumes would not explain.
Zen (n.) explained is Zen explained away; it can no more be held by a definition than wind can be shut in a box and stay wind.
Zen (n.) makes the error of mistaking idea for reality almost impossible, having no creed, no system, no scriptures and no graspable doctrine.
Zen (n.) has been called the Chinese revolt against Buddhism; it is nearer the truth to call it China's interpretation of Buddhism — a revolutionary one.
Zen (n.) is a detective story with the last chapter missing — a beam of light that can be seen and used but never caught, loved but never possessed.
Zen (n.) found a way to convey meaning without words, and for once Mahayana became a psychology and a religion instead of a philosophy.
Zen (n.) in the part that matters cannot be organized, taught, transmitted, certified or even followed — everyone has to find it for himself.
Zen (n.) should soak into the West informally, like the drinking of tea; we digest it better that way.