Every one of us has in him a continent of undiscovered character. Blessed is he who acts as Columbus to his own soul.
For the soul there is neither birth nor death at any time. He has not come into being, does not come into being, and will not come into being. He is unborn, eternal, ever-existing and primeval. He is not slain when the body is slain.
O soul, you worry too much. You have seen your own strength. You have seen your own beauty. You have seen your golden wings. Of anything less, why do you worry? You are in truth the soul, of the soul, of the soul.
Prana, the vital breath, is born of Self. Like a person and his shadow, the Self and Prana are inseparable. Prana enters the body at birth, but does not die with the body.
He who knows his soul knows this truth: “I am beyond everything finite; I now see that the Spirit, alone in a space with its ever-new joy, has expressed itself as the vast body of nature…I am the wisdom and power that sustain all creation.”
