In the quiet late afternoon heat, as the sun lingers in the west, along the riverbank, the fearsome Nile crocodiles make a sanctuary. They set aside all predatory behavior—all violence! Peacefully, the crocodiles sit motionless; their breathing slowed, jaws agape.

People ruled by thirst are like snared rabbit. Tethered and bound to return to their suffering!

Old age, sickness, and death roll in over all living creatures like a mountain of stone. It crushes everyone—no class of people is spared. It cannot be warred against, or outwitted, or bought.

“Cursed is the venom once spat—forced to swallow back to survive! Death would be better than living!” said the Snake.

“When dining on austerity,

Every bit gets split;

Because that’s how a meal's enjoyed!”

- the Crow

Nalagiri tore through the streets of Rajagaha in a bloody rampage. From their stilt houses and rooftops, people hurled whatever they could at the enraged elephant as he trampled, gored, and crushed those below.

The Buddha had rejected miracles and forbade his disciples from performing them — because the liberation that he taught was not magic, it was attainable through practice.

So many were astonished when he announced that he would attend the Festival of Miracles.