This Self who gives rise to all works, all desires, all odours, all tastes, who pervades the universe, who is beyond words, who is joy abiding, who is ever present in my heart, is Brahmn indeed. To him I shall attain when my ego dies.
A life without love is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead. The consciousness of loving and being loved brings a warmth and richness to life that nothing else can bring.
One who is able to withdraw his senses from sense objects, as the tortoise draws his limbs within the shell, is to be understood as truly situated in knowledge.
Words can confer strength; they can drain it off; Words can gain friends; they can turn them into enemies; words can elevate or lower the individual. One must learn the habit of making one’s words sweet, soft, and pleasant.
