Bomta Khenpo was a remarkable master and also very eccentric. "You and I have become very close," he remarked one day, "and you seem able to understand what I say. We are now connected as master and disciple."
He continued after a pause, "I'm an old man now and I tell you this without bragging, but this old man here is a bearer of the authentic Dzogchen teachings. Still, what good does that do? No one comes here to request them and even when they do, they rarely understand. A lecturer without an audience is no more than a barking dog. What's the use of me teaching into the air?
"No one from Kham, Central Tibet or these southern mountain ranges has come to request the view with a sincerity coming from the core of their heart. My health is now failing, yet I am still the old bearer of the true Dzogchen teachings--and it seems that I am going to take them with me when I die."
It stung me to hear these moving words, so I requested as many teachings as I could.
from Blazing Splendor, pg. 348