And here is a doctrine at which you will laugh. It seems to me, Govinda, that love is the most important thing in the world.

Love of God is not always the same as love of good.

Those who cannot think or take responsibility for themselves need, and clamor for, a leader.

Good that you ask. You should always ask, always have doubts.

One must find the source within one's own Self, one must possess it. Everything else was seeking -- a detour, an error.

A home isn't just a roof over our heads. A home is a place where we feel loved and where we love others. It's a place we belong. Love is what makes a home, not the contents inside the house or the number on the door. It's the people waiting for us across the threshold, the people who will take us in their arms after a ad day and kiss us good night and good morning everyday for the rest of our lives.

He lost his Self a thousand times and for days on end he dwelt in non-being. But although the paths took him away from Self, in the end they always led back to it. Although Siddhartha fled from the Self a thousand times, dwelt in nothing, dwelt in animal and stone, the return was inevitable; the hour was inevitable when he would again find himself in sunshine or in moonlight, in shadow or in rain, and was again Self and Siddhartha, again felt the torment of the onerous life cycle.