There is only one heroism in the world: to see the world as it is, and to love it.

The greatest human ideal is the great cause of bringing together the thoughts of Europe and Asia; the great soul of India will topple our world.

The theatre, like the fresco, is art fitted to its place. And therefore it is above all else the human art, the living art.

Everyone, deep down within, carries a small cemetery of those he has loved.

If there is one place on the face of the earth where all the dreams of living men have found a home from the very earliest days when man began the dream of existence, it is India. For more than 30 centuries, the tree of vision, with all its thousand branches and their millions of twigs, has sprung from this torrid land, the burning womb of the Gods. It renews itself tirelessly showing no signs of decay.

Skepticism, riddling the faith of yesterday, prepared the way for the faith of tomorrow.

Thousands of animals (now billions) are butchered every day without a shadow of remorse. It cries vengeance upon all the human race.