A nation's culture resides in the hearts and in the soul of its people.
It hurts me to think that people in their rush for everything modern despise all their ancient traditions and ignore them in their lives.
My heart is drawn backwards and forwards between the spinning wheel and books.
In the Gita continuous concentration on God is the king of sacrifices.
Satyagraha is itself an unmistakable mute prayer of an agonized soul.
That parrot's non-co-operation with the cage, with its master, will live for ever because it looks upon renunciation, non-co-operation, as a joy.