He who can curb his wrath as soon as it arises, as a timely antidote will check snake’s venom that so quickly spreads, — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. He who entirely cuts off his lust as entering a pond one uproots lotus plants, — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. He who entirely cuts off his craving by drying up its fierce and rapid flow, — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. He who entirely blots out conceit as the wind demolishes a fragile bamboo bridge, — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin. He who does not find core or substance in any of the realms of being, like flowers which are vainly sought in fig trees that bear none, — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
From: “Uraga Sutta: The Serpent” (Sn 1.1), translated from the Pali by Nyanaponika Thera. Access to Insight (BCBS Edition), 29 August 2012, http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/kn/snp/snp.1.01.nypo.html .