Only the process of realizing all dharmas can reveal everyone's true wisdom.

The process of verifying all dharmas necessarily requires the personal participation of the manas. If the manas wants to know the definitive result, it must know the truth of the facts; and if the manas wants to know the truth of the facts, it must have evidence. Obtaining this evidence is an arduous process: not only must the mind consciousness laboriously, extensively, and meticulously gather evidence, but the manas must also give rise to deep questioning doubt, searching for evidence together and verifying together, and must confirm the evidence collected by the mind consciousness. This process is by no means easy—it is not something that can be casually accepted the way the mind consciousness can casually accept a certain dharma. He must undergo repeated internal struggle, repeated deep and meticulous deliberation (manasikāra) and weighing, and must change His habitual cognition and incorrect views accumulated over beginningless kalpas.

When the manas finds it, the previous knowledge is overturned, and thus the manas is touched and shaken, with very intense experiences of body and mind. Without this process, do not speak of genuine practice and realization. Apart from meditative concentration (samādhi), this process simply cannot be completed, so do not speak of genuine practice and realization either—that is merely lofty talk.

As for the results concerning all dharmas, the Buddha has almost all given the answers—for example, like a dream, like an illusion, like the moon in water, like an image in a mirror, like a mirage, and so on. These are all answers given by the Buddha. What is so remarkable about knowing the answers? It is the process of verification that reveals each person's true wisdom. The wisdom of mere understanding, which knows nothing when asked in depth, can be attained by anyone slightly clever—there is nothing remarkable about it.

Those unenlightened ordinary beings, because they are clever with strong comprehension, broad knowledge, and excellent writing and eloquence, can spend some time and write tens of thousands of words of discourse on how all dharmas are like dreams and illusions. But in such discourses, where are the traces of contemplative practice (vipaśyanā-caryā)? Where are the traces of realization? Where is the process of verification? Yet some people happen to be fond of such things, reciting them day and night. Even if one is learned enough to fill five carts with books, what use is it?