Only through the process of verifying all dharmas can each person's true wisdom be revealed.

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 painstakingly and extensively gather evidence in a deep and detailed manner, but the manas must also give rise to profound questioning doubt, searching for evidence together, verifying together, and confirming the evidence gathered by the mind consciousness. This process is by no means easy; it is not something that can be done casually and effortlessly the way the mind consciousness might simply accept a certain dharma. He must undergo repeated internal struggle, repeated deep and detailed deliberation (manana) and weighing, and must change His habitual cognition and incorrect views accumulated over beginningless kalpas.

Once the manas finds it, it overturns its former knowledge, and thus the manas is touched and shaken, with intense feelings in 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—do not speak of genuine practice and realization then; it 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. Interpretive wisdom that answers "I don't know" when asked three questions—anyone slightly clever can obtain that; there is nothing remarkable about it.

Those unenlightened ordinary beings (pṛthagjana), because of their cleverness, 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 a dream, like an illusion. 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 they are learned enough to fill five carts with books, what use is it?