You used to see and hear those folk, and call them by their name. Yet the name is all that’s left to tell of a personage when they’re gone.

Those who are greedy for belongings don’t give up sorrow, lamentation, and stinginess. That’s why the sages, seers of sanctuary, left possessions behind and wandered.

For a mendicant who lives withdrawn, frequenting a secluded seat, they say it’s fitting to not show themselves in a home.

The sage is independent everywhere, they don’t form likes or dislikes. Lamentation and stinginess slip off them like water from a leaf.

Like a droplet slips from a lotus-leaf, like water from a lotus flower; the sage doesn’t cling to that which is seen or heard or thought.

For the one who is cleansed does not conceive in terms of things seen, heard, or thought. They do not wish to be purified by another; they are neither passionate <j>nor growing dispassioned.

Anthology of Discourses 4.7 With Tissametteyya

“When someone indulges in sex,” said Venerable Tissametteyya, “tell us, good fellow: what trouble befalls them? After hearing your instruction, we shall train in seclusion.”