Great recluses hide in the city, lesser ones in the wild.

The true recluse never needs to deliberately attach themselves to the rustic charm of mountains and forests; with a heart that is free and pure, they can find their own peace even amidst the bustling city.

The sparse forest at sunset hosts a few crows, the green mountains where my home lies. Upon returning, what added seclusion but the pleasure of brewing Tea before a small stove and a lamp.

Perhaps there's no sparse forest at sunset, no few crows in the cold, no faint green mountains, no red-clay stove. What we have is a pot of spring-blooming tea in the concrete jungle of the city.

Brew yourself a pot of tea, and both the tea and your heart will be at ease.

Tea is like a fish swimming in water.

You are not the tea, how would you know the joy of the tea? You are not me, how would you know I do not know the joy of the tea?

To enjoy a pot of tea is to savor the unspoken moments that belong to one alone.

Away from the disturbances of the world, watching the tea leaves rise and fall in the water is not the movement of the tea, but the stirring of the tea drinker's heart.

Brew yourself a pot of tea, drink it until it sweetens, nourishing your soul.

Good tea has a lingering Sweetness, leaving a fragrant aftertaste. In fact, upon reflection, isn't life much the same?

Life may sometimes stubbornly go its own way, but there will always be an end to bitterness and the coming of sweetness. After storms, there will be clear skies; when the clouds part, the moon plays with the shadows of flowers. When the tea has turned sweet, nourishing the soul, it brings forth infinite joys, making worries about what comes before and after mere jests. Why then should one fret over present troubles?

Brew yourself a pot of tea, as the tea grows lighter, so does the heart.

The joys and sorrows of tea all lead to simplicity, much like life with its ups and downs, which come to an end like a song that finishes with the curtain falling.

The light green, the light fragrance, the light joy, the light loneliness, all teach the tea drinker about the cycles of life, the coming together and parting of ways. Thus, the heart becomes elegant, calm, and serene, not seeking to be free from the world but content to take things as they come.

Brew yourself a pot of tea, to feel the loved self.

Living in the city, we are reluctant to leave, bearing responsibilities and chasing dreams. We are butterflies in the city, moving in orderly procession under the guidance of traffic lights.

Fortunately, there is a pot of tea that allows us, in moments undisturbed by others, to occasionally bask in its aroma, letting ourselves dance through the spring woods, giving ourselves enough love and comfort.

A pot of tea enables our free transition between the mundane and the transcendent, warming the morning and evening clouds of the city.