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.
One who identifies himself with his soul regards bodily transmigration of his soul at death fearlessly, like changing one cloth for another.
Like the waves in great rivers, there is no turning back of that which has previously been done…The soul is bound with the fetters made of the fruit of good and evil.
Every one of us has in him a continent of undiscovered character. Blessed is he who acts as Columbus to his own soul.
To succeed, you must have tremendous perseverance, tremendous will. “I will drink the ocean”, says the persevering soul; “at my will mountains will crumble up”.
