The drop of rain maketh a hole in the stone, not by violence, but by oft falling.

The drop excavates the stone, not with force but by falling often.

For water continually dropping will wear hard rocks hollow.

What is harder than rock, or softer than water? Yet soft water hollows out hard rock. Persevere.

Consistency beats intensity. A single drop of water, falling consistently, carves stone over time. It’s the persistent effort that shapes the landscape.

Not so much like drops of water, though water, it is true, can wear holes in the hardest granite; rather, drops of liquid sealing-wax, drops that adhere, incrust, incorporate themselves with what they fall on, till finally the rock is all one scarlet blob.

Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can't go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.

The first hole made through a piece of stone is a revelation. The hole connects one side to the other, making it immediately more three-dimensional. A hole can itself have as much shape-meaning as a solid mass. Sculpture in air is possible, where the stone contains only the hole, which is the intended and considered form. The mystery of the hole – the mysterious fascination of caves in hill sides and cliffs.

Water is fluid, soft, and yielding. But water will wear away rock, which is rigid and cannot yield. As a rule, whatever is fluid, soft, and yielding will overcome whatever is rigid and hard. This is another paradox: what is soft is strong.

Water is fluid, soft & yielding but water will wear away rock, which is rigid and cannot yield ... what is soft is strong.

After tumbling down the mountain, a stone lies in a valley. How did it fall away? Right now, no-one knows. Did it tear from the heights on its own? Or was it cast down by the will of another? Aeons have flowed by, yet no-one knows the reason why.

It is the nature of stone to be satisfied. It is the nature of water to want to be somewhere else.

The finest workers in stone are not copper or steel tools, but the gentle touches of air and water working at their leisure with a liberal allowance of time.

A stone lies in a river; a piece of wood is jammed against it; dead leaves, drifting logs, and branches caked with mud collect; weeds settle there, and soon birds have made a nest and are feeding their young among the blossoming water plants. Then the river rises and the earth is washed away. The birds depart, the flowers wither, the branches are dislodged and drift downward; no trace is left of the floating island but a stone submerged by the water; — such is our personality.