A life without love is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead. The consciousness of loving and being loved brings a warmth and richness to life that nothing else can bring.
A man said to the universe: “Sir, I exist!” “However,” replied the universe. “The fact has not created in me a sense of obligation.”
You created the counterfeit and the genuine. You appraise all people. You appraise the true, and place them in Your treasury; You consign the false to wander in delusion.
God loveth those who are pure. No one is more loved than one of purity and immaculate cleanliness.
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.
