Then Vakkali addressed his carers, “Please, reverends, help me off my cot. For how on earth could one such as I presume to listen to the Buddha’s instructions sitting on a high seat?” “Yes, reverend,” replied those mendicants, and helped him off his cot. They repeated what the Buddha had said. Vakkali said, “Well then, reverends, in my name bow with your head to the Buddha’s feet. Say to him: ‘Sir, the mendicant Vakkali is sick, suffering, gravely ill. He bows with his head to your feet.’ And then say: ‘Form is impermanent. I have no doubt of that. I’m certain that what is impermanent is suffering. And I’m certain that I have no desire or greed or fondness for what is impermanent, suffering, and perishable. Feeling is impermanent … Perception is impermanent … Choices are impermanent … Consciousness is impermanent. I have no doubt of that. I’m certain that what is impermanent is suffering. And I’m certain that I have no desire or greed or fondness for what is impermanent, suffering, and perishable.’” “Yes, reverend,” those monks replied, and left. And then, not long after those mendicants had left, Venerable Vakkali committed suicide.