God waits to win back his own flowers as gifts from man's hands.

We live in the world when we love it.

Let the dead have the immortality of fame, but the living the immortality of love.

Our self (Soul), as a form of God's joy, is deathless. For his joy is amritham, eternal bliss. We know that the life of a Soul, which is finite in its expression and infinite in its principle, must go through the portals of death in its journey to realize the infinite.

Life's fulfillment finds constant obstacles in its path; but those are necessary for the sake of its advance. The stream is saved from the sluggishness of its current by the perpetual opposition of the soil through which it must cut its way. The spirit of fight belongs to the genius of life.

Let me light my lamp", says the star, "And never debate if it will help to remove the darkness

It is the same life that emerges in joy through the dust of the earth into numberless waves of flower.