There is in India a story of a dying youth who, hearing the sobs of grief around him, cried: Insult me not with your cries of sympathy. When I soar to the land of eternal light and love; it is I who should feel for you. For me, disease, shattering of bones, sorrow, excruciating heartaches no more. I dream joy, I glide in joy, I breathe in joy evermore.

He is the wisest who seeks God. He is the most successful who has found God.

Retire to the center of your being, which is calmness.

I am no longer the wave of consciousness thinking itself separated from the sea of cosmic consciousness. I am the ocean of Spirit that has become the wave of human life.

Let my soul smile through my heart and my heart smile through my eyes, that I may scatter rich smiles in sad hearts.

Success is not rightly measured by wealth, prestige and power. Success is measured by the yardstick of happiness.

Little stones that are pelted into the lake of consciousness should not throw the whole lake into commotion.