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.
The Gods gave a microbe a drop of water, and in it he lived. They gave an ant a half acre of land, and he prospered. They gave a tiger the forest and he formed an empire and became an emperor. They gave man the Universe and all the knowledge therein. He entered of his own free will the dungeon of Dogma, shut his mind to truth and slew and starved his brothers.
