According to the true Indian view, our consciousness of the world, merely as the sum total of things that exist, and as governed by laws, is imperfect. But it is perfect when our consciousness realizes all things as spiritually one with it, and therefore capable of giving us joy. For us the highest purpose of this world is not merely living in it, knowing it and making use of it, but realizing our own selves in it through expansion of sympathy; not alienating ourselves from it and dominating it, but comprehending and uniting it with ourselves in perfect union.

Memory, the priestess, kills the present and offers its heart to the shrine of the dead past.

The human soul is on its journey from the law to love, from discipline to liberation, from the moral plane to the spiritual.

In desperate hope I go and search for her in all the corners of my house. I find her not. My house is small and what once has gone from it can never be regained. But infinite is thy mansion, my lord, and seeking her I have come to thy door.

To be constantly changing one's plans isn't decision at all-it's indecision.

Thou hast brought the distant near and made a brother of the stranger.

While God waits for His temple to be built of love, men bring stones.