Edwin Arnold Quotes
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A little rain will fill The lily's cup which hardly moistens the field.
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Where pity is, for pity makes the world Soft to the weak and noble for the strong.
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Like threads of silver seen through crystal beads Let love through good deeds show.
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Never the spirit was born; the spirit shall cease to be never; Never was time it was not; End and Beginning are dreams! Birth-less and deathless and changeless remaineth the spirit forever. Death hath not touched it all, dead though the house of it seems!
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Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours For one lone soul another lonely soul, Each choosing each through all the weary hours, And meeting strangely at one sudden goal, Then blend they, like green leaves with golden flowers, Into one beautiful and perfect whole; And life's long night is ended, and the way Lies open onward to eternal day.
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Sweetest smile is made saddest tear-drop!
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Who doth right deeds Is twice born, and who doeth ill deeds vile.
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Like a plank of driftwood Tossed on the watery main, Another plank encountered, Meets, touches, parts again; So tossed, and drifting ever, On life's unresting sea, Men meet, and greet, and sever, Parting eternally.
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Pity and need Make all flesh kin. There in no caste in blood.
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Shall any gazer see with mortal eyes, Or any searcher know by mortal mind; Veil upon veil will lift but there must be Veil upon veil behind.
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There is no caste in blood.
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The royal kingcup bold Dares not don his coat of gold.
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What good I see humbly I seek to do, And live obedient to the law, in trust That what will come, and must come, shall come well.
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The foolish ofttimes teach the wise: I strain too much this string of life, belike, Meaning to make such music as shall save. Mine eyes are dim now that they see the truth, My strength is waned now that my need is most; Would that I had such help as man must have, For I shall die, whose life was all men's hope.
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For death, Now I know, is that first breath Which our souls draw when we enter Life, which is of all life center.
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The Buddhas who have been and who shall be, of these am I and what they did, I do.
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Don't poets know it Better than others? God can't be always everywhere: and, so, Invented Mothers.
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He who died at Azan sendsThis to comfort all his friends:-Faithful friends! It lies I knowPale and white and cold as snow;And ye say, 'Abdallah’s dead!'Weeping at the feet and head.I can see your falling tears,I can hear your sighs and prayers;Yet I smile and whisper this:I am not the thing you kiss.Cease your tears and let it lie;It was mine-it is not I.
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We are the voices of the wandering wind,Which moan for rest and rest can never find;Lo! as the wind is, so is mortal life,A moan, a sigh, a sob, a storm, a strife.
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Within yourself deliverance must be searched for, because each man makes hiw own prison.
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Early violets blue and white Dying for their love of light.
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That what will come, and must come, shall come well.
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Life, which all creatures love and strive to keep Wonderful, dear and pleasant unto each, Even to the meanest; yea, a boon to all Where pity is, for pity makes the world Soft to the weak and noble for the strong.
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Sleep - death without dying - living, but not life.