The Self, having in dreams enjoyed the pleasures of sense, gone hither and thither, experienced good and evil, hastens back to the state of waking from which he started. As a man passes from dream to wakefulness, so does he pass from this life to the next.
Working hours are never long enough. Each day is a holiday, and ordinary holidays are grudged as enforced interruptions in an absorbing vocation.
Truly, it is in darkness that one finds the light, so when we are in sorrow, then this light is nearest of all to us.
Why impress false religion on the world? It will be of no service to it. Why run about for the sake of wealth? You cannot escape from death… Think, O think, you thoughtless fool, you shall have in the end to depart alone.
Burnt offerings, sacred feasts, intense meditations, puja and taking millions of cleansing baths at sacred shrines of pilgrimage: the merits of all these can be obtained by enshrining Lord within your heart for a fraction of a second.
