“Udāyī, you could draw this out for a long time. You say, ‘The ultimate splendor is the splendor compared to which no other splendor is finer.’ But you don’t describe that splendor. Suppose a man was to say, ‘Whoever the finest lady in the land is, it is her that I want, her I desire!’ They’d say to him, ‘My man, that finest lady in the land who you desire—do you know whether she’s an aristocrat, a brahmin, a peasant, or a menial?’ Asked this, he’d say, ‘No.’ They’d say to him, ‘My friend, that finest lady in the land who you desire—do you know her name or clan? Whether she’s tall or short or medium? Whether her skin is black, brown, or dingy? Whether she comes from such-and-such village, town, or city?’ Asked this, he’d say, ‘No.’ They’d say to him, ‘My man, do you desire someone who you’ve never even known or seen?’ Asked this, he’d say, ‘Yes.’ What do you think, Udāyī? This being so, doesn’t that man’s statement turn out to have no demonstrable basis?” “Clearly that’s the case, sir.” “In the same way, you say, ‘The ultimate splendor is the splendor compared to which no other splendor is finer.’ But you don’t describe that splendor.”

“Worthy sir, suppose there was a beryl gem that was naturally lustrous, eight-faceted, well-worked. When placed on a cream rug it would shine and glow and dazzle. Such is the splendor of the self that is free of disease after death.”