We do not want nowadays temples of worship and outward rites and ceremonies. What we really want is an Asram. We want a place where the beauty of nature and the noblest pursuits of man are in a sweet harmony.

What is Art? It is the response of man's creative soul to the call of the Real.

The bird thinks it a favor to give the fish a lift in the air

Poems On Love Love adorns itself; it seeks to prove inward joy by outward beauty. Love does not claim possession, but gives freedom. Love is an endless mystery, for it has nothing else to explain it. Love's gift cannot be given, it waits to be accepted.

Music fills the infinite between two souls. This has been muffled by the mist of our daily habits.

Spurious fame spreads from tongue to tongue like the fog of the early dawn before the sun rises.

Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh.