He who loves me is made pure; his heart melts in joy. He rises to transcendental consciousness by the rousing of his higher emotional nature. Tears of joy flow from his eyes, his hair stands on end, his heart melts in love. The bliss in that state is so intense that, forgetful of himself and his surroundings, he sometimes weeps profusely, or laughs, or sings, or dances; such a devotee is a purifying influence upon the whole universe.
Life has meaning only in the struggle. Triumph or defeat is in the hands of the gods. So let us celebrate the struggle.
Why impress false religion on the world? It will be of no service to it. Why run about for the sake of wealth? You cannot escape from death… Think, O think, you thoughtless fool, you shall have in the end to depart alone.
