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The fountain of death makes the still water of life play.
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There is a point where in the mystery of existence contradictions meet; where movement is not all movement and stillness is not all stillness; where the idea and the form, the within and the without, are united; where infinite becomes finite, yet not losing its infinity. If this meeting is dissolved, then things become unreal.
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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.
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The fish in the water is silent, the animal on the earth is noisy, the bird in the air is singing, But Man has in him the silence of the sea, the noise of the earth and the music of the air.
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Those who own much have much to fear.
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In the world's audience hall, the simple blade of grass sits on the same carpet with the sunbeams, and the stars of midnight.
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When the heat and motion of blind impulses and passions distract it on all sides, we can neither give nor receive anything truly. But when we find our centre in our soul by the power of self-restraint, by the force that harmonizes all warring element
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When sorrow is deepest...then the surface crust is pierced, and consolation wells up, and all the forces of patience and courage are banded together to do their duty. Thus great suffering brings with it the power of great endurance. So while we are cowards before petty troubles, great sorrows make us brave by rousing our truer manhood.
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My debts are large, my failures great, my shame secret and heavy; yet I come to ask for my good, I quake in fear lest my prayer be granted.
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The smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps - does anybody know where it was born? Yes, there is a rumor that a young pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a dew-washed morning.
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Beauty is truth's smile when she beholds her own face in a perfect mirror.
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Let my doing nothing when I have nothing to do, become untroubled in its depth of peace, like the evening in the seashore when the water is silent.
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If religion, instead of being the manifestation of a spiritual ideal, gives prominence to scriptures and external rites, then does it disturb the peace more than anything else.
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I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy.
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This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new.
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YOU are the big drop of dew under the lotus leaf, I am the smaller one on its upper side,' said the dewdrop to the lake.
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Let the splendor of diamond, pearl and ruby vanish? Only let this one teardrop, this Taj Mahal, glisten spotlessly bright on the cheek of time, forever and ever.
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Your love keeps me afloat but will remain the anchor in my soul... I don't really have words to describe how romantic I find that. Your love is what keeps me going, but it's also the anchor that keeps me close to you. I love it!
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Jewel-Like the immortal does not boast of its length of years but of the scintillating point of the moment.
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I touch God in my song as the hill touched the far-away sea with its waterfall.
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Trees are the earth's endless effort to speak to the listening heaven.
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According to the Upanishads, the complete aspect of Truth is in the reconciliation on the finite and the infinite, of everchanging things and the eternal spirit of perfection. When in our life and work the harmony between these two is broken, then either our life is thinned into a shadow, or it becomes gross with accumulations.
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In the drowsy dark cave of the mind dreams build their nest with fragments dropped from day's caravan.
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The water in a vessel is sparkling; the water in the sea is dark. The small truth has words which are clear; the great truth has great silence.