According to the true Indian view, our consciousness of the world, merely as the sum total of things that exist, and as governed by laws, is imperfect. But it is perfect when our consciousness realizes all things as spiritually one with it, and there
I have spent many days stringing and unstringing my instrument while the song I came to sing remains unsung.
From the grasses in the field to the stars in the sky, each one is doing just that; and there is such profound peace and surpassing beauty in nature because none of these tries forcibly to transgress its limitations.
The young student sits with his head bent over his books, and his mind straying in youth's dreamland; where prose is prowling on the desk and poetry hiding in the heart.
He only has freedom who ideally loves freedom himself and is glad to extend it to others. He who cares to have slaves must chain himself to them. He who builds walls to create exclusion for others builds walls across his own freedom. He who distrusts freedom in others loses his moral right to it.
Days are coloured bubbles that float upon the surface of fathomless nights.
Never be afraid of the moments--thus sings the voice of the everlasting.
The mountain remains unmoved at its seeming defeat by the mist.
When I think of ages past That have floated down the stream Of life and love and death, I feel how free it makes us To pass away.
In the drowsy dark cave of the mind dreams build their nest with fragments dropped from day's caravan.
In the world's audience hall, the simple blade of grass sits on the same carpet with the sunbeams, and the stars of midnight.
Leave out my name from the gift if it be a burden, but keep my song.
This principle of opposites is at the very root of Creation, which is divided between the rule of the King and the Queen; Night and Day; the One and the Varied; the Eternal and the Evolving.
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action-Into that heaven of freedom, my father, let my country awake.
He it is, the innermost one, who awakens my being with his deep hidden touches. He it is who puts his enchantment upon these eyes and joyfully plays on the chords of my heart in varied cadence of pleasure and pain.
The meaning of the living words that come out of the experiences of great hearts can never be exhausted by any one system of logical interpretation. They have to be endlessly explained by the commentaries of individual lives, and they gain an added mystery in each new revelation.
Death is turning out the lamp because the dawn has appeared.
Not hammer-strokes, but dance of the water, sings the pebbles into perfection.
O poor, unthinking human heart! Error will not go away, logic and reason are slow to penetrate.We cling with both arms to false hope, refusing to believe in the weightiest proofs against it, embracing it with all our strength. In the end it escapes, ripping our veins and draining our heart's blood; until, regaining consciousness, we rush to fall into snares of delusion all over again
I am willing to serve my country, but my worship I reserve for Right which is far greater than my country. To worship my country as a god is to bring a curse upon it.
The question and the cry 'Oh, where?' melt into tears of a thousand streams and deluge the world with the flood of the assurance 'I am!'
The singer alone does not make a song, there has to be someone who hears. -Broken Song
The echo mocks her origin to prove she is the original.
My day is done, and I am like a boat drawn on the beach, listening to the dance-music of the tide in the evening.
God, the Great Giver, can open the whole universe to our gaze in the narrow space of a single land.
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