Life has meaning only in the struggle. Triumph or defeat is in the hands of the gods. So let us celebrate the struggle.
The evil ruler spoils the word, the plan of life, by his teachings. He, indeed, deprives me of the exalted goal of good thought. With the word of my spirit, I pray to You, O Wise One, and to truth!
A mind all logic is like a knife all blade. It makes the hand bleed that uses it.
He who loves me is made pure; his heart melts in joy. He rises to transcendental consciousness by the rousing of his higher emotional nature. Tears of joy flow from his eyes, his hair stands on end, his heart melts in love. The bliss in that state is so intense that, forgetful of himself and his surroundings, he sometimes weeps profusely, or laughs, or sings, or dances; such a devotee is a purifying influence upon the whole universe.
