For him who has completed the journey, for him who is sorrowless, for him who from everything is wholly free, for him who has destroyed all ties, the fever of passion exists not… He is like a pool, unsullied by mud; to such a balanced one, life’s wanderings do not arise. Calm is his mind, calm is his speech, calm is his action, who, rightly knowing, is wholly freed, perfectly peaceful and equipoised.
You should discover your own reality and not thwart yourself. For you have the self as your only friend, or as your only enemy.
Every gardener knows that under the cloak of winter lies a miracle …a seed waiting to sprout, a bulb opening to the light, a bud straining to unfurl. And the anticipation nurtures our dream.
For which of you desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it?
Anxiety does not empty tomorrow of its sorrows, but only empties today of its strength.
